Mending an Angel
by Jenna Cassie Herdz
Summary: Erik is forced to leave the country, being a fugitive, and a young lady from his past follows along with him. His past and his feelings for Christine still haunting him, can he find it in his heart to find love elsewhere?
1. Beatrice

_**Chapter 1: Beatrice**_

Erik walked through the dark walkways of his underground world trying to find the exit he knew was there. He was calm and walked through the tunnels slowly, because he knew it would be a while before the mob would find his secret tunnel behind the mirror. He had left his mask, and knew he had to be extremely careful not to let anyone see him when he reached the streets. He would stay in the shadows, just as he had always done.

He turned a corner, and saw a pale blue light at the end of the tunnel. He grinned and ran toward it, only to come to a dead end and a slope of rock leading to the street off to the side. He looked into the sky and at the full moon before slowly climbing toward the street. He reached the opening and kept hidden as he heard screams. The tunnel had led him to the entrance of the opera house, below the stairs. He watched in silence as people ran down the steps and screamed away from the burning building.

It seemed he had waited hours before the last person cleared the street. A black cloak fell in front of him, and he looked up to see Antoinette Giry standing with her hands on her hips.

"Put it on," she ordered in an angry low voice. Erik slid his hand toward the cloak and wrapped it around him, covering his face as well. He climbed into the street and Antoinette handed him her cane. Erik, realizing what she meant for him to do, hunched over pretending to use the cane for support, as well as Antoinette. He looked off to his right as they walked through the street and saw Christine climb into a carriage, Raoul following behind her. He pulled away to run after her, his rage and passion taking over, but Antoinette pulled him back as hard ad she could and the carriage drove off.

"Why did you not let me go after her?!" Erik growled in a whisper.

"Are you not in enough trouble because of her?" Antoinette retorted. "Come, Erik. I will shelter you in my home. But you must do one thing for me…Forget about Christine Daaé."

"How dare you ask that of me?! I could never forget my angel!"

"Forget her in the sense that you do not consume yourself with her. Make room in your heart for someone else."

"No one can replace Christine. And besides that, no one would be able to love a monster like me," Erik insisted, and the woman sighed, letting him have the last word. They walked quickly through the streets to Antoinette home, where she closed and locked the door once inside.

"Beatrice!" Antoinette called, and Erik shot a terrified look at her.

"Coming, ma'am!" a girl called, and Erik ducked behind Antoinette.

"Why do you hide from a friend, Erik?" she smirked.

"A friend?! I do not know a woman named Beatrice!"

"My, had it been that long?"

"What do you mean?" Erik suddenly heard footsteps walking quickly toward them, and looked up to see a young woman with fire red hair and shining golden eyes that reminded him of the statues around the stage of the Opera Populaire. There were freckles sprinkled on her nose and cheeks, just beneath her golden eyes, and her rosy lips were pouting naturally.

"You called, ma'am?" she curtsied, slightly.

"You remember Erik?" Giry suddenly swooped away to reveal Erik, his face uncovered, but still with the cloak wrapped around him. The girl frowned in confusion as she studied Erik. He fidgeted on his feet as she merely stared at him. His heart raced in panic when her eyes grew wide. This girl was going to remember him, scream and run away.

"Erik?" she breathed, then smiled. "It _is_ you! I would recognize those eyes anywhere!"

"I am sorry, Mademoiselle," Erik replied. "I do not know you."

"I would not expect you to remember me," she said, walking toward him, slowly. "It was years ago, and we were both very young. But I never forgot you." As she stood in front of him, Erik realized his face was exposed, and yet, she didn't say anything. Was it too dark for her to see it? No, she had recognized his eyes. Was she only being polite? Possibly, she seemed like a polite, innocent girl. She seemed familiar, but how?

"Erik?" Antoinette called. "Be polite. Say something."

"What can I say to a stranger?" Erik replied, but did not take his eyes from Beatrice. "Hello?"

"Still so sarcastic?" Beatrice giggled. She lifted a hand to his deformity, and with that small touch, he remembered. Beatrice was the only person that didn't cringe and recoil at the sight of his face. He had met her when she came to live with Antoinette, but they had only spent one day together before he went to live beneath the opera house.

"You," he breathed, suddenly, his eyes growing wide. "You…have…grown."

"You remember now?" Beatrice smiled. "You have grown as well.

"Prepare a room for him, Beatrice," Antoinette ordered, yanking the cloak from Erik's back and hanging it up. "You can talk later."

"Yes, ma'am," Beatrice replied, lowering her hand. Before she turned to walk back the way she came, Erik saw a disappointed look in her eyes, as if she really didn't want to go do as she was told. He watched her as she turned a corner, taking one last glance at him before she did, and he stared after her, not moving. Antoinette stepped next to him, giving him a sly glance at his gaze.

"She _has_ grown," she agreed. "In maturity and beauty." Erik straightened and looked at her.

"You think you could make me forget Christine so easily?" he smirked. "No matter how beautiful a woman you introduce me to, _no_ one can replace Christine."

"You will soon forget your love for her. You will struggle to remember her face, and her voice. Then one day you will wake up, and she will be gone. With time, this will be so."

"_She sounds like a prophet who knows not what she speaks of,_" Erik thought.

"I will need a mask," Erik said, changing the subject. "I do not want either of you to see me like this too much."

"You know full well we do not mind your face."

"It does not matter. No one should have to look upon this."

"Very well," she nodded. "I will see what I can do. Stay here. I must go back for Meg."

"You would find it of great importance, then, to know that she led the mob beneath the opera house."

"I told her to stay out of there!" Antoinette cried then growled in agitation. "I will be back!" She whirled around and walked out the door.

Erik looked around the small house then walked down the hall. He wouldn't admit it to Antoinette, but he was tired. Tired of running. Tired of being alone. Tired of his face. Tired of being feared.

He rounded a corner and saw four doors, all closed. He walked to the nearest door and opened it without knocking. There was a shriek and he was greeted with the sight of Beatrice in nothing but her corset and petticoats. He stood in the doorway, knowing he should turn away, but too surprised to. She hesitantly wrapped her arms around herself.

"Your room is across the hall," she mumbled, casting her eyes down and blushing.

"I am sorry," Erik said quickly. "I thought---I will just---I am sorry." He shut the door and walked across the hall into the next room. He slammed the door in anger at himself.

"_Idiot!_" he thought, leaning back on the door. "_Why did I not knock?! I should have! Why did I not turn away?!_" He smirked, mischievously. "_Well, it was not so bad. She seemed to like being looked at, and I liked looking at her._" He shook his expression away by shaking his head violently. "_What am I thinking?! I cannot think like that!_" He sighed and looked around the room. There was a bed in the middle of the room with a clean evening suit on it, and shoes on the floor, shined to perfection. Across from the foot of the bed was a wardrobe and next to the bed was a nightstand with a small drawer in it and an oil lamp on top of it. He walked toward the bed and stared at the suit, as if he didn't know what to do with it.

"I hope it fits," Beatrice murmured, standing in the doorway. Erik spun around with wide eyes. He hadn't even heard the door open.

Beatrice was dressed in a dark purple, taffeta floor-length gown with a "V" neck lined with black lace, and the elbow length sleeves were lined with lace as well. Her red curls were pinned back away from her face, and cascaded down her back to her waist.

"Thank you," Erik chocked. "I am truly sorry about earlier."

"It is alright," she blushed, looking down, wringing her hands. "It was an accident."

"_I did not mind it that much_," she thought.

"Still," Erik said. "I should have knocked."

"Where did Madame go?" Beatrice asked, changing the subject.

"She went back to the opera house for her daughter," Erik explained. "She may be a while." Beatrice nodded, still looking at the floor.

"I missed you," she murmured after a moment of silence. "Is that strange? I missed you, even though we met briefly."

"That is not extremely strange," Erik admitted.

"I asked Madame if I could visit you," she continued. "But she would not let me go. When I asked why she said it was best for me to stay away from you."

"Why?"

"She said it was to protect you and me. But I did not understand what she was protecting us from." Erik nodded, and Beatrice suddenly walked toward him. She stood in front of him and he studied her with wide-eyed curiosity. She looked up at him, finally, and their eyes locked, making Erik's throat clench. She threw her arms around her neck, leaning her head on his chest.

"Beatrice?" he sighed, confused about what to do or say.

"I am glad you are back," she whispered, holding him tighter.

"I will not be here for long," he explained. She lifted her head to look at him in confusion. "You see, I am a criminal. I am a murderer, Beatrice." She gave a small gasp, but did not pull away from him.

"I cannot believe that!" she breathed.

"It is true, mon ami," he murmured, looking down at her. "I have done terrible things. Things I am not proud of myself. I have killed men, burned down the opera house, and was very close to killing another man for---" He stopped himself and placed his hands on hers, bringing them down from around his neck.

"What?" Beatrice pleaded. "Go on. I want to know."

"No, Beatrice," Erik replied, sternly. "You do not. Trust me." He turned away from her, but she would not be so easily dismissed.

"I may be young, but I am not stupid!" she cried, making him look at her in surprise. "Please, Erik. Tell me." He looked at her for a moment as she gazed at him in anticipation. How could he refuse this girl? She was interested in knowing about his life, something no one had ever been for him. But how could he tell her everything he had done? She would turn away from him. Then again, she didn't turn away from his face, perhaps she wouldn't turn away from his past.

"Very well," he sighed. "I will tell you, but not now. Perhaps tomorrow."

"Oh, no you do not!" Beatrice smiled, walking toward the bed and sitting next to the suit she had laid out for him. "Tomorrow never came for us last time. I want to know everything, now." Erik sighed again and sat next to her, moving the suit off to the side then taking her hands in his. He took a deep breath as she waited. He could do this. He could tell her everything. He might as well, with everything still fresh in his mind.

He told her all about Christine, and his life beneath the opera house. He spoke of his alias as Christine's Angel of Music, and how he had fallen in love with her. He told her all about Masquerade, his opera, and that even now, the Opera Populaire was burning down to the ground. He told her of his murdering the stage hand, Joseph Bouquet, and how he was now here at Madame Giry's home. He looked off into space after ending his story, thinking of Christine, and Beatrice stared at him with tears in her eyes. It was as though she was hurting with him.

"I only wanted her to love me," he murmured. "That was all I wanted…love. I am so sick of being alone with nothing, but this face keeps me that way." He felt a hand gently pull his face toward Beatrice's, he touched her hand as it lingered on his deformed face.

"You are not alone, now," she whispered. "I am your friend, Erik. I will never leave you alone." She threw her arms around him again, and Erik couldn't help but begin sobbing into her shoulder.

Finally, someone cared. Someone cared before he became a creature of darkness. This girl, holding him cared. She was his friend, and he would not take her for granted.

He held Beatrice tightly and she stroked the back of his head to comfort him. They pulled away to look at each other, and Erik was even more saddened at seeing tears on Beatrice's cheeks as well. He brushed them away with his fingers, and she smiled, doing the same to his tears.

"Why are _you_ crying?" Erik smiled.

"Because I cannot imagine what it must have been like for you," Beatrice replied. "Being alone for so long."

"I had my music," he said, looking on the bright side.

"Madame has a piano!" Beatrice smiled. "Won't you let me play for you?!" She stood up and tugged him by the hand. They ran into the parlor where there was a piano sitting near the window. The curtains to the window were drawn, but some moonlight still came in. Beatrice sat at the piano and waved Erik toward her. He sat next to her as she placed her hands on the keys, gently. She looked up at the piece of music in front of her and began playing, never once taking her eyes from the page.

Erik watched her hands as she played, watching her technique. Her hands gracefully floated across the keys, and he found himself mesmerized by their movements. His eyes slowly scanned up to her face, and she closed her eyes briefly as she felt the music flowing through her and into her hands. He had never seen anything like it. This girl seemed to enjoy music as much as he did. She was completely consumed with the piece, much like he would be when he played or sang. He doubted she even remembered he was sitting there next to her.

The piece ended all too quickly, and he was jerked from his thoughts when she hit the last note. She breathed deeply coming out of her trance then looked at Erik, and giggled at his wide-eyed expression. She placed a hand below his chin and gently closed his mouth. He straightened and cleared his throat, composing himself.

"You played that very well," he smiled.

"Thank you," she nodded. "It is my favorite piece."

"Your technique is flawless. Who is your tutor?"

"Madame Emerson. She lives not too far from here. She came here from England many years ago. Madame Giry pays her fifty francs a week for her services. She comes every day at noon and we have lunch before out one hour lesson."

"Well she taught you well."

"Thank you." Beatrice leaned toward Erik and left a small kiss on his deformed cheek. He looked at her in wide-eyed confusion. Suddenly, there was a loud pounding on the door making the couple jump.

"Police!" a man's voice boomed from the other side of the door. "Open the door!"


	2. Fugitive

_**Chapter 2: Fugitive**_

"Police!" a man's voice boomed from the other side of the door. "Open the door!"

"Just a moment!" Beatrice called, thinking quickly. "I am not decent!" She turned to Erik, taking his hand and dragging him from the piano. "Come with me!" she whispered. They ran down the hall back into Erik's room, and she shoved the wardrobe over. Beneath the wardrobe, Beatrice revealed a trap door then swung it open. "Get in!" Erik did as he was told, and Beatrice hid the door again.

"Open the door!" the policeman shouted, banging on the door again. Beatrice walked as fast as she could to the door, fixed her hair and dress then opened the door.

"Sir," she smiled. "Is something wrong?"

"Mademoiselle," the officer nodded, respectfully. "A witness saw Madame Giry lead a suspicious person here."

"Is the police department in the habit of investigating _every_ suspicious person in sight?" Beatrice retorted.

"We have been told that Madame Giry is connected to the Opera Ghost, also known as the Phantom of the Opera. He is a murderer and he has burned down the Opera Populaire. We must search the house."

"Please," Beatrice smiled, stepping aside. "Be my guest, monsieur's! I have nothing to hide! Neither does Madame Giry!" The men came into the house and searched every cupboard, every closet, and every room. Beatrice followed one man who walked down the hall and into Erik's room. He looked around and noticed the suit on the bed.

"You say you and Madame Giry are the only ones who live here?" he asked.

"I never said that," Beatrice corrected. "This is Madame Giry's house, and I live here, so does her daughter."

"Why is there a suit on this bed if there are no men in the house?" he wondered.

"My brother was visiting," Beatrice lied, flatly. "He left it here. He left yesterday."

"Where did he go?"

"He did not say. Probably to some foreign country. He is always traveling." The policeman shuffled around and a few of ran into the room.

"Sir," one man called from the door. "The rest of the house is clear."

"It seems this room is as well," the policeman said and turned to Beatrice. "If you see the fugitive, he is a tall man with dark hair and deformed face."

"Of course," Beatrice nodded. "You will be the first I call if I see him." The men left and Beatrice locked the door behind them. She ran back to Erik's room and shoved the wardrobe away, and freed Erik from his hiding place. He climbed out laughing as he did making her frown in confusion at him. "Prey-tell what is so funny?"

"The way you lied to that policeman," Erik smiled. "I thought you were an _honest_ girl."

"I _am_ an honest girl!" Beatrice pouted, stomping her foot and placing her hands on her hips.

"And a childish one, eh?" Erik grinned. "You throw tantrums like a child."

"Erik---!" she cried, pointing at him. "Erik---whatever you last name is! You take that back, right now!"

"Your face is turning red," Erik smirked, folding his arms across his chest. "You can be very pretty when you are angry." Beatrice's hand fell to her side as she stared at him in shock. She hadn't expected him to say something like _that_.

"Thank---Thank you," she finally mumbled, casting her eyes down and folding her hands in front of her. "Why did you kill that man?" Erik's smile dropped as he realized she was talking about Joseph Bouquet, and he sat on the bed again as he looked at the suit and fiddled with one of the buttons on the jacket.

"I---I had no reason," Erik admitted. "I had told those fools of managers to cast Christine as the star for Il Muto, but they did not listen and they suffered the consequences. The man I killed was a drunken pervert, who spied on the ballet girls while they changed."

"That does not mean he deserved to die!" Beatrice suddenly shouted. Erik looked at her in surprise. "_No one_ deserves to die, no matter what they've done or how they live! If you think that way then maybe I _should_ turn you in to the police for what you _have_ done!" Erik suddenly stood from the bed, an angry look on his face, and marched toward her in long, angry strides. Beatrice's courage fled, and she backed away, only to walk into the wall. He pinned her between himself and the wall, his eyes locked with hers, his hands gripping her wrists.

"Try it," he growled in a whisper. "Go ahead! Call the policeman back!"

"If I do, will you kill _me_ too?!" Beatrice spat. "At least you would have more reason to kill _me_ than you did the other man!" Erik's grip loosened on her wrists and his anger faded. He would never kill a woman, or hurt a woman physically. "Erik," Beatrice breathed. "I'm sorry. I didn't really---Oh, Erik! I would never turn in a friend, no matter what they have done!"

"Beatrice, I am _not_ your friend. I am not the same person as the child you knew so long ago. I would give anything to be that child again and not this monster I have become." Erik walked back to the bed and sat down, his head in his hands.

"You call yourself a monster," Beatrice said, walking toward him and standing in front of him. "How can that be true when you do not look like one?" Erik looked up at her in utter shock and she knelt down in front of her. "You are a man who had made mistakes. You are a man who looks differently from most. _My_ definition of a monster would be something inhuman. But _you_ are most definitely a human." Erik knelt down in front of her, not taking his wide-eyed stare away from her, and threw his arms around her.

"You always understood me, didn't you?" he whispered, starting to sob. "After only one day of knowing me, you knew everything."

"I would say the same to you," Beatrice smiled, holding him. "You knew me without knowing me."

"But I did not remember you," he confessed.

"You remember me _now_, mon ami," she said, pushing away from him slightly to look at him. "I did not remember _you_ at first. We have both changed." Erik nodded.

"Tell me everything you have done since we parted," he insisted, holding her hands. "I want to know everything about you."


	3. Decisions

_**Chapter 3: Decisions**_

Antoinette dragged Meg by the wrist down the dark Paris streets toward their home. She had found her daughter coming from the catacombs of the opera house, the very place she had told Meg _not_ to go. Meg, however, was curious and the mob had pressured her into leading them down there.

"Mama," Meg called, stumbling behind her. "I am sorry I went down there, but I wanted to find Christine! She is my friend!"

"She is safe," Antoinette said, not looking at her. "She is with the viscount." Meg sighed in relief, but her mother still dragged her down the streets, saying nothing else. When they reached the house she had to use her key to unlock it, which made her frown in confusion. She dragged her daughter into the house, closed and locked the door then dragged Meg toward her room, passing the room Beatrice had prepared for Erik. She stopped and looked into the room with a small smile and when Meg peeked into the room she gave a small gasp at what she saw.

Erik and Beatrice were sitting on the floor leaning back on the bed, side by side, sleeping. Beatrice had her head leaned on Erik's shoulder and her hands were in his. Meg started to go into the room to "help" Beatrice away from the evil, monstrous Phantom of the Opera, but Antoinette held her back, causing Meg to frown in confusion at her mother.

"They know each other," Giry whispered. "They met long ago." Meg stared at her in disbelief then looked at the sleeping pair. "Go to your room, Meg. I'll explain everything later." Meg hesitated before walking down the hall to her room, and Antoinette looked back at Erik and Beatrice. She noticed that the wardrobe was a bit out of place and frowned at it a moment. She stepped in front of Beatrice and knelt down, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"Erik…" the young woman breathed, stirring slightly. Antoinette sighed and shook her head. She had hardly spent an hour with him and she was dreaming about him already.

"Beatrice," Antoinette whispered. "Wake up, child." She stirred again and her eyes fluttered open as she looked at Antoinette.

"Madame!" Beatrice gasped. She jumped to her feet, waking Erik in the process. He, too, scrambled to his feet and Antoinette stood tall, smiling in amusement.

"Would you prepare dinner for us, Beatrice?" Antoinette asked. Beatrice nodded, bowed her head and left the room. Antoinette closed the door and walked toward the nightstand and opened the drawer as Erik watched her in interest. She pulled out a white, porcelain mask much like the one he used to wear.

"You always have been full of surprises, Madame," Erik smirked. She handed him the mask and he took it then placed it on his face.

"Pray-tell, why were the two of you asleep on the floor?" Antoinette retorted lifting an eyebrow in intrigue. Erik stiffened and looked at the suit lying on the bed.

"We were talking," Erik replied in a mumble, turning to get dressed. "We fell asleep. Is that a problem?"

"No," Antoinette admitted walking to the door. "Just be sure you don't lead her on if you don't feel for her." Erik whirled around with a shocked look on his face, but she left the room and shut the door before he could say anything. She walked down the hall into Meg's room to find her changed for dinner.

"Mama!" Meg exclaimed running toward her. "Why is he here?! Not to be so bold, but---" Antoinette held up her hand to silence her daughter and Meg obeyed.

"Meg," her mother smiled. "He is here because I have protected him for as long as I have known him. I will continue to protect him until my death or his." Meg nodded and cast her eyes down fiddling with her fingers.

"Mama," she murmured. "I am afraid of him." Antoinette wrapped her arms around her for a hug.

There is now need to be, mon petite," she said, stroking her hair. "He will not harm you. He promised me, long ago that he wouldn't." She held her daughter at arms length. "Now finish getting ready for dinner." Meg nodded and Antoinette left the room closing the door. She walked down the hall into the dining room where Beatrice was setting the table.

"Madame," she curtsied. "Dinner is almost ready."

"Good," Antoinette nodded. "Please, have a seat for a moment. I wish to ask you something." The two women took a seat at the table and Beatrice looked slightly worried. "The wardrobe in Erik's room…Was it moved while I was gone?" Beatrice nodded, and immediately began telling her about the visit by the police.

"They suspect you, Madame!" Beatrice warned. "What shall we do?!" Antoinette thought for a moment then placed her hands on Beatrice's, smiling warmly.

"We will let Erik decide," she murmured. "If he wishes, he will stay. But if he wishes to leave, we must be respectful, and let him leave." Beatrice's face became long with sorrow, but she nodded, nonetheless.

"Madame?" the young woman said. "What you saw---Erik and I on the floor---nothing happened---"

"I know, mon petite," Antoinette interrupted. "He told me you were talking. Prey tell what were you talking about?"

"He wanted to know about me," Beatrice couldn't help the small smile that came to her face. "I was telling him all about my life with you here and my piano lessons with Madame Emerson." Antoinette nodded and smiled at Beatrice's happiness. She had never been a sociable girl with anyone after Erik had left, and she was glad that the young woman seemed a little more cheerful, if only subtly.

The two women jumped when they heard a shriek of terror from down the hall, and they jumped and ran in that direction. Erik stood there in front of the door to Meg's room wearing the suit that Beatrice had picked for him, and Meg was standing just outside the door in a pink taffeta gown with white lace around the neck-line and the sleeves, her hair pulled back in a pink satin bow. He was staring at her, and she was staring at him, but she was posed as if ready to retreat back into her room.

"Meg?" Antoinette called with a frown of confusion. Meg met her mother's gaze in horror, and calling to her ran into her arms. Beatrice saw Erik bow his head in obvious shame.

"What happened?" Beatrice asked.

"I came into the hall just as she was," Erik muttered. "Apparently I frightened her."

"Meg Giry!" Antoinette scolded. "I told you he would not harm you! Why are you acting like a frightened mouse all of a sudden?!"

"If it is alright with you, Madame, I would like to take my supper in my room," Erik said, turning and walking back to his room. Antoinette opened her mouth to say something, but Beatrice broke in.

"No," she said flatly, and Erik stopped to look at her in surprise, as did Antoinette and Meg. She had a determined look on her face, indicating that she meant business, and walked toward the masked man in long strides. "You will supper with _us_, not alone in your room." She took his arm and walked him toward the two other women. Meg ducked behind her mother, and gazed at Erik in fear. "Meg, come out from behind your mother," Beatrice ordered. Antoinette didn't mind the young woman giving her daughter orders, even in her presence, and she was curious to see what Beatrice was going to do.

"Beatrice---" Erik tried, but she put up a hand to silence him as Meg slowly crept from behind her mother. Beatrice took her hand and stood her and Erik face to face.

"First, apologize to Erik," Beatrice said, and Meg frowned at her in confusion.

"Erik?" Meg wondered who Beatrice was talking about.

"Yes. This man in front of you is Erik."

"Beatrice!" Meg whispered. "He is the Phantom of the Opera!" Erik sighed, and Beatrice looked at her in frustration.

"Your little ballet girl superstitions will not infect _me_ Meg!" Beatrice snapped. "He is not the Phantom of the Opera! He is Erik! Now apologize for almost making him eat his supper alone because of your silly superstitions!" Antoinette couldn't help but smile, not only at the fact that Beatrice would make a good mother in the future, but also at the fact that she did not let the "ballet girl superstitions" that Meg brought home to make her believe that there was something that went bump in the night. She was a mature girl for twenty-two.

"I'm sorry," Meg murmured ever so softly.

"It's alright," Erik murmured back, just as softly. "I would not have expected any other reaction, truly."

"Alright," Beatrice nodded, choosing to ignore Erik's comment, she would talk to him later. "Now, supper should be ready now, so we can all have a nice meal together." She wrapped her arm around Erik's and he looked at her in surprise, but escorted her to the dining table.

The meal was silent. No one spoke, not even Meg who was usually the most talkative of the three women. What would they talk about? Erik sat picking at his food, knowing he didn't belong there, and Meg was too terrified to say anything. What would they say? They were sitting having supper while the Opera Populaire was burning down! Madame Giry should have been worrying about how she would make a living, and Erik should be worrying about whether or not he should even stay in the country!

Erik stood, excusing himself, and left to his room. Beatrice also excused herself and ran after him, seeing his look of total loss on his face. She knocked on the open door, warning him she was coming in, and he turned to face her.

"Would you like to talk?" she wondered, closing the door and hoping he said yes. She didn't like the fact that he felt alone and feared, even though it was true. Erik sighed and ran a hand through his hair, sitting on the bed.

"Certainly," he sighed. "Tell me more about Madame Emerson."

"I did not mean my talking and you listening to me," Beatrice said, walking toward him and sitting next to him. "I meant _you_ talking, and _my_ listening to _you_." She took his hands in hers. "Tell me how you feel." Erik studied her face for a moment. Why would she wish to hear any more about him? Had she not heard enough about what had happened? Why did she care so much about what he was feeling? Erik realized in that moment that it didn't matter to him why she cared. The fact was, she cared, and it was nice to know that she wanted to hear about his feelings.

"I feel---" he choked, but found that a lump was coming into his throat. He leaned his forehead on her shoulder to keep her from seeing his tears. The action made her blush, but she said nothing. "I feel lost, mon ami," he whispered so low she almost couldn't hear him. "I am a wanted man now. All I can do is run, but where am I to run to? I don't want to run." Beatrice sighed in sorrow and placed a hand on his head for comfort. "I still love Christine," he admitted. "I thought I could not live without her but I suppose that is not entirely true, seeing as I am still alive now."

"Of course you still love her," Beatrice sympathized.

"I should not."

"If we loved all the people we _should_, life would be rather boring, don't you think?" Erik couldn't help but laugh, slightly. This girl always knew the right things to say. "Do you _want_ to love her?" Erik looked up at her with a frowned creasing the visible part of his face.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, if you love her, and yet you say you shouldn't love her, do you want yourself to love her?" Erik looked at her in surprise. He had never thought of it that way. Did he truly want to love someone who had loved him out of pity and left with another man the moment she had let her go? Did he want to love someone who had broken his heart? It seemed he had wanted _her_ but had he wanted to _love_ her?

He had no answer. What could he say? Love was something that happened, it wasn't something you planned. He had wanted to _be_ loved, and give love in return. He realized that he had at one point wanted to love Christine, but now, after she had left him the minute he let her go? How could he tell? How would he ever be able to tell?

"Erik?" Beatrice prompted when he said nothing. He simply stared at her for a moment, making her worried. "Erik?"

"I do not know," he finally whispered making Beatrice smile gently. "Should I? That is, how would I know?" Beatrice put her hand on his heart making him jump in surprise.

"You will know, in your heart," she whispered back then pulled her hand away.

"When?"

"That is for you to find out. I cannot tell you. _No one_ can tell you." Erik sighed in disappointment and Beatrice giggled at him. "Not quite the answer you wanted?"

"I was hoping you might be a bit more forward," Erik smirked in a slight groan.

"I am sorry about that, but some things must be found out on your own," Beatrice smiled. He leaned his head back on her shoulder and she couldn't keep in a question burning in her mind. "Erik?"

"Yes?"

"Are you going to leave?"

"Do you wish me gone that badly?" Beatrice pulled his gaze to hers by gripping his head with both hands on either side and pulling his head up to look him in the eye.

"No! Of course not, Erik! How could you think such a thing?!" Erik pulled her hands down with his gently, and sighed.

"I'm sorry, mon ami. I am used to people not wanting to be in my presence."

"Must you think of yourself that way?"

"How else am I to think? I told you of my past."

"Have you ever considered it possible that _I_ wish to be in your presence?"

"Why?"

Beatrice's eyes became wide. Had he just asked her _why_ she would wish to be around him? Was it not obvious? She cared for him as a friend, and possibly more. How could he not see it?

"Because you are my friend, Erik," she insisted. "Friends usually wish to be around friends. But you have not answered my question. Are you going to leave?" Erik stood and walked toward the door, running a hand through his hair in thought then turned back to her.

"I think, perhaps I should," he said flatly. "I fear that the visit from the policemen tonight was only the beginning and I do not wish to put you, Antoinette, or Meg in any danger."

"Where will you go?" Beatrice asked with disappointment in her eyes.

"Another country," Erik replied walking back toward the bed. "Somewhere far away from here." Beatrice nodded and looked down at her hands as she wrung them in her lap. Erik frowned in confusion at her and knelt next to her. He looked at her, and before she looked away he saw tears in her golden eyes.

"I feel like this is just like the last time you and I met," she explained in a small voice. "You will leave, and I will probably never see you again." Her shoulders began slightly shuddering as she sniffled and made small, sad noises. Erik stared at her in guilt and quickly sat on the bed pulling Beatrice into his arms as she began sobbing. What could he do? He had to leave France to keep the girls in this house safe. But he had just found the one person that could ever understand him. His only friend. How could he leave her? Why did he not _want_ to leave her? He had no idea why he didn't want to leave this woman, but he couldn't. His heart wouldn't let him and before he knew it, he was saying something he hoped he was not going to regret.

"Beatrice?" he whispered. "Come with me." She immediately ceased shuddering with a gasp, and slowly looked up at him in total and utter disbelief reflecting in her watery eyes.

"What?" she breathed.

"Come with me," Erik repeated with more enthusiasm, gripping her hands. "You do not wish me to leave, and I do not wish to leave you but I _must_ leave. Come with me and we can help each other forever."

"Erik, I cannot merely pack my things and leave here," Beatrice said. "If I were to go with you, I must know where we would be going!"

"So it is settled! If you were to know where we were going, you would go with me!"

"That is not what I meant!"

"But that is what you said. If I decided where we would go, you would come with me, won't you?"

Beatrice stared into his waiting, sea-green eyes. He wanted her to go with him and to her great surprise she _wanted_ to go with him. But it was not so easy for her to leave as it was for him. She had grown up in France, and it would seem strange that she would just up and leave for what seemed like no reason. But she did not want to lose Erik again, not after she had just found him, or rather, _he_ had found _her_ accidentally.

"I could keep up your piano tutoring, if you wish," Erik said quickly, trying to persuade her. "I could teach you myself. You need not fear of that."

"That is not what I am worried about," Beatrice admitted.

"Then what is it?" Erik frowned. "Did you not say that you were my friend and that you wished to stay with me?"

"Yes, but Erik, I cannot leave without explanation, and I cannot tell the truth to anyone I know or they will surely turn you in."

"We do not have to tell anyone. We could leave right away."

"Where?"

Erik looked away from her. Why was she being so difficult?! Could she not just say yes and be done with it?! But he did admit he had to decide on a destination. If they were to run as soon as was possible, they had to know where they were going. An idea struck Erik, and he turned to her with a warm smile. Taking her hands in his he looked deeply into her eyes.

"Wherever you wish to go, mon ami," he whispered. It was a wonder Beatrice's eyes didn't pop from her skull when they widened in disbelief. Wherever _she_ wished to go. She had to admit, she would want to go anywhere in the world if she had the chance. This was her chance. Where would she ask to go that would keep Erik safe and her entertained?

"Spain," she whispered a smile on her lips and a spark in her eye. "I have always wanted to see what kind of dresses they have there." Erik grinned and threw his arms around her, and she returned the gesture.

"We will go to Spain, then," he whispered in her ear. "And you will be the most beautiful señorita in the whole country." Beatrice giggled, and Erik was surprised by what he had just said. She now knew that he thought her beautiful and there was now taking that back. The truth of the matter was he didn't want to take it back. He _did_ think she was beautiful, and a part of him wanted her to know it. A part of him wanted to move on, and forget Christine.

Beatrice was also surprised at that comment, though she did well to hide it with her giggle of amusement. No one had ever told her anything remotely similar to that before. All the men she knew thought she was scrawny and awkward, and it was true to a degree. She hardly had any bosom, she was clumsy, and she had knobby knees and elbows. She often wore more petticoats than is required and tied her corset so tightly so that she could hardly get in a decent breath to try to give her a figure.

However, this man, holding her in his arms thought she was beautiful. Whether he had said it to be polite or meant it, she didn't care. All she cared about was that he had said it. In that moment, she made him a silent promise: He would not regret meeting her and letting her travel with him. She wouldn't, she couldn't, and she swore to uphold that promise however necessary.


	4. A Carriage Ride

_**Chapter 4: A Carriage Ride**_

Erik stared across the carriage at Beatrice sitting in front of him, staring out the window. They were on their way to the docks to board a ship and leave for Spain, and before they had nearly made their quiet, secret escape out of Madame Giry's home, Meg had caught them and made a scene when Beatrice confessed their plan. The girls had cried, and hugged good-bye and Beatrice told Meg to give a message to Madame Emerson telling the teacher she was leaving on an indefinite holiday.

Now they sat in the carriage in silence, Beatrice with dry tears on her cheeks and Erik with his blood boiling in anger. They had been so close to their get-away before that little blonde ballet brat had showed up. The thing that had his temper flaring, however, was the fact that Beatrice had actually told the girl where they were going, why they were leaving and that they didn't know how long they would be. Meg didn't need to know that!

"Why did you confess to Meg what we were doing?" Erik finally asked, unable to conjure up a good enough excuse for her on his own. Beatrice looked at him in surprise.

"I beg your pardon?" she asked, sincerely not having heard him.

"Why did you have to tell Meg what we were doing?" Erik repeated, even more irritated.

"Because she is my friend!" Beatrice shot back, sitting up straight. "I plan on writing to her when we settle into a house as well. Does that bother you?!"

"Yes!" Erik growled sincerely. "She may tell the police where I am!"

"I doubt it! If she did that she would be turning me in as well, and she would not be able to stand the guilt of turning in an innocent person!"

"You know, you are not exactly innocent when harboring a fugitive," Erik smirked.

"Are you saying I should call for the police right now?" Beatrice smirked back. "I could turn you in and have a clean conscience with them. Is that what you want?" Erik opened his mouth to say something, but then registering her words sat back in his seat.

"No," he mumbled looking out the window. He had put his foot in his mouth and said something before thinking, and she had caught him. However, he couldn't help the small smirk that came to his lips. This girl had fire, and he hoped he could see more of that during their time spent together.

"Alright then," Beatrice nodded, and resumed her staring out the window. "It is a beautiful night tonight." Erik looked at her in surprise at her sudden calm. "The moon is full." She looked at Erik with a smile. "Do you know what people say about the full moon, Erik?"

"No, mon ami," he smiled, leaning his head to the side, resting it on the door of the carriage. "What do they say?"

"Many things!" Beatrice grinned then quickly stood and sat next to him on his side of the carriage. "They say there is a man on the moon."

"Impossible," Erik laughed.

"It's true! They say you can see his whole face in the full moon! Look," she leaned over him to look out the window, and he stiffened at her being so close, as she pointed at the full moon. "There is his nose and his smile, and his eyes," she continued, still staring at the moon, but Erik was staring at her. The moonlight coming in from the window illuminated her face, gently caressing her features in the soft light. She almost looked like…an angel.

"Yes," Erik breathed. "I see." She looked up at him, and their noses grazed each other's, and even in the low light Erik could see her face flush crimson and the stain spread all the way down her neck and chest. She quickly stood to sit back on her side of the carriage, but one of the wheels hit a rock, jostling it a bit fiercely and knocking Beatrice forward. She cried out in surprise and landed on Erik's chest, with his arms wrapping around her in reflex to keep her from falling.

"Thank---" She stopped when she looked back up at him, and their eyes locked. The blush on her face deepened and her heart raced when she realized how close they were, close enough that they could see their breath mingling in the cold air as they breathed heavily.

"Are you alright?" Erik asked, not knowing what else to say.

"Y-Yes," Beatrice finally stuttered. "Just…a bit…dizzy." Her eyes closed a little, and he pulled her closer to support her as he sat her next to him. She felt her heart pounding in her chest, and her hands began to sweat while her mouth became dry and her head was spinning.

"Just sleep, mon ami," Erik whispered in her ear, sending a chill running through her that she couldn't contain. She shivered and Erik became concerned again. "Are you cold, Beatrice?" he asked, and he quickly removed his cape and laid it gently on top of her.

"I…" she breathed, trying to speak. "I am fine, Erik. Thank you." He smiled, and she returned the gesture. He sat back and stared out the window in silence before she spoke again. "Erik?"

"Yes?" he asked, not looking away from the scenery outside.

"How will pass ourselves off when we get to the dock?" She had been thinking about this for a while, and waited for the perfect moment to ask. What better time than when they needed to change the subject? Erik smiled mischievously, and formed a quick joke in his head. He had liked how she had blushed, and he wanted to see that color cover her features again.

"We could say we are husband and wife," he replied flatly, not looking away from the window. He felt Beatrice jerk into a sitting position and turned to see her staring at him in his favorite color for her covering her face, neck and chest, a look of horror in her eyes.

"Hu-Husband, and w-wife?" she repeated in a slightly high voice.

"Yes," Erik confirmed, coolly then slid closer to her. "Can you not see me as your husband?" Beatrice's face changed to another color of red, and she tried to look away from him, but he gently pulled her chin to make her look at him. "If not your husband, perhaps your lover?" She whimpered, and Erik felt pride sweep over him. He felt himself becoming thrilled with being so close to her, and he could only imagine what Beatrice was feeling right then, but the exhilaration he was giving himself by playing this trick on her was a good feeling for him, and he didn't want to stop.

"W-Why don't we just say we are b-brother and sister?" Beatrice wondered, trying not to fall for Erik's charming attitude.

"Because, I think it would be much more interesting to play the part of lovers than relatives, don't you?" Erik wondered quite honestly. He was very surprised at how far he was taking this, but he had to see how far he would get before she realized he was teasing, and he hoped she wouldn't realize it too soon.

He ran the tips of his fingers along her jaw below her chin, and she closed her eyes, tilting her head back slightly. She placed her hands on his chest to push him back, but he placed his hands on hers gently.

"If you do not like the idea, we can say we are brother and sister if you wish," he murmured. "But I doubt you and I make convincing siblings." He studied her face as she kept her eyes closed then bit her lower lip and frowned in thought, making Erik smile. He couldn't believe how adorable he thought that was, and he wanted to see more of that while they were together.

"I-If you think it's a good idea," she finally said in a small voice. "W-We can say we are…" She swallowed loudly. "…married." She slowly opened her eyes to see Erik staring at her in disbelief, but he said nothing. "Erik?" He shook off his shock, and smiled at her.

"Very well," he murmured. "Since you agree, we are married. I am sorry, my dear, I did not have time to buy a ring for you." Beatrice couldn't help but giggle. Maybe this role-playing wouldn't be so bad. They only had to _act_ married in public, not while it was just the two of them. How bad would it be? Erik closed in on her again, and she found herself panicking and scooting back away from him slightly.

"Erik?" her voice cracked. "What are you doing?"

"Well, if we are to make others perceive that we are married, should we not act as though we are?"

"Not while we are alone," Beatrice whispered.

"Why not?" Erik wondered in earnest. "We could get into character to prepare to be in front of others." Unfortunately, it made sense and Beatrice knew that if he touched her again, even a slight graze of her hand touching his she would surely faint. She had been attracted to him from the start, and every time he was near her he made butterflies in her stomach. This man was too much for her, and she knew it.

"Al-Alright," she stuttered and he grinned, closing in on her again. He was truly enjoying this game too much, and he didn't care. She placed her fingertips on his lips, and he stopped with a frown of confusion. "I have some terms I wish to discuss first, Don Juan," she said sarcastically.

"Terms?!" he nearly whined.

"Yes, terms," Beatrice nodded. "I have some rules that you must follow if we are to be 'husband and wife'."


	5. Terms

_**Chapter 5: Terms**_

"First thing," Beatrice said. "We may not pretend when there is no one around."

"But---" Erik's protest was cut short when she held her hand up.

"Not negotiable," she said. "Next, no inappropriate touching"

"Beatrice---"

"You may not kiss me in public. In fact you may not kiss me at all."

"Do you not think you are taking your terms a bit too seriously?" Erik wondered.

"Absolutely not!" Beatrice retorted. "If we do not have ground rules, no doubt you would go out of control with all of this pretend!"

"Is it so wrong to lose control?" Erik murmured, closing in on her. He loved this! He couldn't keep away from her too long because her face turned to her normal color, and he loved seeing her blush.

"For _you_ it is," she retorted, trying to keep her trembling under control. "Look at you now! We are not even to the docks yet and you are closing in on me like a predator closes in on its prey every chance you get!"

"And such beautiful prey, at that, eh?" he couldn't help but reply. He gently ran the back of his fingers across her cheek as she stared at him in surprise. His smirk faded as he kept looking at her. He studied her face and found himself gazing over her naturally pouting lips, wanting to taste them. "If you had not told me to stay from your lips, I think I would kiss you."

"If I had not told you to stay from my lips, I believe I might let you," Beatrice confessed in a whisper. She swallowed and her gaze fell to his lips, as his gaze stayed on hers. Why did he want to kiss her? Did he care why? The only thing that mattered was that he wanted to, not his reason. But to know his reason would put him at ease, a bit.

He moved closer to her, their breath mingling for the second time that night, their eyes locked and they felt exhilaration sweep over them. The carriage hit a bump in the road again and the jostling pushed Erik fully onto Beatrice, his face landing on her neck. She squeaked in surprise, feeling his lips on her neck above all else and the two didn't move.

"Erik?" Beatrice whispered, and he looked up at her in question. "I would like to add one further addendum."

"Y-Yes?" he managed.

"I will not sleep in the same bed with you. We shall have our separate sleeping areas. Am I understood?" Beatrice had no idea why that thought came to her mind, but thought it would be best that he understood that now than go through the trouble of telling him later.

"Understood," he simply replied and found he really couldn't keep himself from doing just one thing to make her blush. He gently brushed his lips to her neck just below her ear in an open mouthed kiss, closing his eyes to savor the feel of her soft skin through them then pushed away and sat up to look out the window. Beatrice stared at him in disbelief as her face stained red all over her face, neck and chest. She sighed shakily, and looked out her own window.

Though Erik had seen how he made her blush, he didn't feel as satisfied by the sight as he had before. Being so close to her left him with mixed emotions and the fact that he had done what he did surprised him to no end. This was all happening so fast his new emotions for this girl were changing. He saw her at first as a friend, unable to forget his Christine. But now, he was slowly and surely getting to know her again and getting to know his feelings for her were starting to become anything but friendly. An indication of that was when he teased her about their roles when they reached the docks. Why insist on playing husband and wife? To be close enough to her and never let her leave him. He wouldn't be able to bare it if another left him alone.

Erik looked at Beatrice who was now staring out her window, her fiery luscious curls tumbling all around her shoulders and back. He remembered the feel of her skin and licked his lips turning away from the sight of her to look out the window again. Oh yes, he had enjoyed touching his lips to her skin, and he had enjoyed being so close to her. He had enjoyed it a little too much. Their pretend would be interesting to play while they were in Spain and anywhere else they were going to be.

"Erik?" Beatrice's small voice called.

"Yes?" he replied, unmoving.

"It is a rather cold night," she said so softly he almost didn't hear.

"Yes, it is," he replied, still not moving. Beatrice sighed in disappointment and turned back to her window. She had mentioned it hoping he would move closer to hold her to keep her warm because she wanted him to be close to her again. She had savored the feeling of him being close to her, and wanted to feel him hold her.

Deciding to take the matter into her own hands, Beatrice slid next to Erik making him finally look at her with a look of total shock on his face. She wrapped his arm around her shoulders and snuggled her face to his chest, resting one of her hands on his chest.

"Does this not break one of your rules?" Erik wondered, jokingly.

"I made them," Beatrice smirked. "I think I should be aloud to change the terms of our arrangement when I see fit, don't you?" He scoffed, and pulled her a bit closer, realizing how cold she must be. His chest rose and fell slowly as he inhaled the scent of her hair then looked out the window. He had smelled her hair. Now she understood why he was acting like this, he was coming to care for her in a way she had never thought any man could come to care for her. How could she show him that she accepted his feelings for her? She knew right away of one way, but thought to save that for when he confessed himself.

She looked up at him but he didn't notice and still stared out the window, his mask facing her. She realized how mysterious the mask made him look, alluring and powerful in some strange way. She slowly reached up and touched it then slowly curled her fingertips around one of its edges.

"What are you doing?" Erik suddenly asked, still not looking at her. He had known she was touching his mask, even if he didn't acknowledge it until now.

"You need not hide your face from me, Erik," Beatrice murmured, lowering her hand and resting it on his chest again. He looked at her in surprise. "I have told you, I do not care about your face. It is the man behind it that matters to me." She smiled warmly and touched her hand to the visible side of his face. "And if we are to be 'husband and wife' we should trust each other, should we not?" She slipped her other hand to his mask and gently removed it.

"Beatrice…" he breathed, but she placed her fingertips to his lips. She placed the mask on the seat in front of them and kissed the deformed side of his face, tenderly. Tears started to fall freely from his eyes and she kissed them away. He still could not believe that anyone could even look upon his face, let alone touch it as this woman was doing.

"Do not cry, mon ami," she whispered. "I accept you, and will never reject you, dear, sweet Erik." She wrapped her arms around his chest, and he held her closer, burying his face in her hair.

"Thank you," he whispered. "If you wish, I will buy you anything your heart desires when we reach Spain." Beatrice giggled and looked up at him with a sweet smile.

"My heart desires nothing but your safety and happiness, mon ami."

"My happiness would be yours."

"Oh, 'dear,' I cannot resist it when you are romantic," she smiled. Erik frowned in confusion at her, but then realized she was pretending as if they were married.

"I cannot help it," he replied with a smile. "I want to give you everything if it would make you happy." Beatrice giggled again and snuggled against his chest. "Beatrice?"

"Yes?"

"You are not…attached, are you?"

"No," she sighed in relaxation. Erik couldn't help the grin that spread across his face. Good, she wasn't attached to anyone. It made it that much simpler for him to keep her with him.

"Beatrice?"

"Hm?"

"Would you ever consider becoming attached at any point in your life?" Silence. "Beatrice?" He looked down at her to see her sleeping peacefully, and couldn't help but smile. He silently and slowly moved for his mask and placed it back on his face then pulled his cape around her a little more tightly and pulled her closer to him. She had been right before, it was a cold night, but surely the fire of their obvious spark would keep them at least a bit warm.


	6. Docks

_**Chapter 6: Docks**_

The carriage jostled to a stop and Erik looked out the window to see that they had arrived at the docks. He looked back down at Beatrice who was still sleeping. He hated to wake her up because she looked so beautiful, but they had to get on that ship as quickly as possible, and se knew what ship it was that they had to get on.

"Beatrice," he whispered. She groaned and stirred a bit making him stiffen. He cleared his throat and leaned close to her ear. "Beatrice," he whispered again. "Wake up, mon ami."

"No," she murmured and Erik frowned at her. "No, leave me alone."

"Beatrice," Erik tried again and nudged her a bit. "You have to wake up."

"No," she muttered again. "Go away. No. Stay away." She tossed a bit and Erik tried to sit her up, but it only made it worse. "No!" she shouted and started hitting his chest as if trying to get away. "No! Get off of me! Let go!"

"Beatrice!" Erik shouted over her and shook her a bit. "You are having a nightmare! Wake up!"

"No!" she shouted one last time and her eyes shot open as she breathed heavily. "What? Erik?"

"You had a nightmare, mon ami," he told her soothingly and stroked some hair from her forehead. She stared at him with wide eyes and he saw the horror in her eyes as she realized what her dream had been about.

"Erik," she breathed and collapsed onto his chest again. "I am so sorry."

"It is alright, Beatrice," he whispered, patting the back of her head. "I understand." He sighed and realized how much he liked this. He liked comforting a woman when she woke up from a nightmare, even though he had never done it before. He didn't want to let her go.

"Erik?"

"Yes?"

"Why have we stopped?"

"We have reached the docks." Beatrice gasped and sat up.

"We should get on board!" She smiled and leaned toward him a bit. "We would not want you to get caught yet, do we?" Erik smirked as he studied her face.

"No, we do not," he murmured. He loved flirting with her like this, even though he shouldn't, and she told him not to in so many words, but he couldn't help making her blush.

"Erik?"

"Yes?"

"You are closing in on me again."

"Does that bother you?"

"I told you not to do anything inappropriate," Beatrice swallowed.

"But it is so easy to be that way with you," he whispered seductively and her skin stained crimson over her face, neck and chest. "You are blushing, Beatrice."

"Erik---"

"Hey!" a voice shouted outside the window behind Erik, drawing their attention. It was the driver of the carriage, and he looked impatient. "Are you two going to get out?"

"We are sorry, monsieur," Beatrice gasped as she drew closer to that window and Erik didn't look at him, not wanting to be recognized. "We are. Thank you very much for driving us here." She pulled out her small black purse and counted out enough money for the journey then handed it to him. He took it gladly and opened the door for them. Beatrice climbed out and the man walked to the back of the carriage to unload their baggage. Erik climbed out making sure his cloak was over his face and took one of the bags that were his.

"Beatrice," he whispered and she looked at him.

"Yes?"

"How many bags did you bring?"

"Only three." Erik stared at her in disbelief.

"_Three_?!"

"What is so extraordinary about that?"

"_I_ only brought _one_!"

"_You_ did not have much," Beatrice retorted. "Now carry one of my bags like a good husband, will you?" Erik growled in irritation and picked up one of her bags as the carriage drove off. She picked up two of her bags and turned to the dock. They took a long look at the ships lined up on the dock and began walking slowly toward them.

"What is the name of our ship?" Erik wondered.

"The _Cruel Mistress_, I believe," Beatrice replied.

"That sounds dangerous," he stated. "Who is her captain?"

"I do not know, we shall find out," Beatrice said, looking around at the ships to find theirs. The two walked along the docks a little longer when they were greeted by a young man that had to be no more than seventeen years old. He had chocolate brown hair and charcoal black eyes that shined even in the darkness.

"Are you here to board the _Cruel Mistress_?" he asked with an odd accent.

"As a matter of fact, we are, young man," Beatrice replied with a smile.

"Perfect! I'll take you to her! Let me take those from you, ma'am." He took her bags then turned and began leading them down the dock.

"Thank you," Beatrice smiled and walked after him quickly with Erik trailing behind her. "My name is Beatrice, and this is my fr-husband, Erik."

"I'm Matthew," the boy answered, still walking. "I'm Captain Robyn's first mate."

"You are not from here, are you?" Beatrice wondered.

"I'm from Australia," Matthew replied. "Captain picked me up with a shipment of sugar going from there to the New World."

"You stowed away?" Erik suddenly assumed and Beatrice shot a look of disbelief at him. He had agreed that he wouldn't talk, but apparently he changed his mind.

"Well, you might say that," Matthew replied. "Couldn't help myself. I love the sea. I couldn't stay away."

"Are you a sailor by trade?" Beatrice wondered.

"Not really," Matthew admitted. "I don't know much about sailing, but Captain is teaching me."

"Who is your captain?"

"Here we are! You'll meet Captain Robyn in person when you board."

"Does he meet everyone that boards?"

"Captain Robyn does," Matthew smirked, making Beatrice frown in confusion. They walked up a gangplank on board a sailing ship that didn't really look like it would take on passengers.

"I have a bad feeling about this, Beatrice," Erik whispered. Beatrice looked at him as they stepped on the deck. She knew that if Erik had a bad feeling, it might be very true.

"What kind of bad feeling?" she whispered back.

"Like something is going to happen."

"Captain!" Matthew called. "Our passengers are here!" Erik and Beatrice looked toward the stern and saw the door of the captain's cabin open and their jaws nearly dropped to the floor.

The captain was a woman! She strode toward them with determined steps and her head was held high. She had thick, ebony hair that fell to her waist that was held back by a silk purple sash and turquoise blue eyes that said she must be respected and obeyed. She was dressed in a white linen shirt, a black leather vest over it, black breeches and tall, black leather boots with a red sash around her waist. She looked more like a pirate than a legitimate sailor.

"Mates," Matthew smiled at Erik and Beatrice. "Allow me to introduce Captain Krystal Robyn." He gestured grandly at the woman dramatically as she stood at attention with an expressionless face.

"Welcome," she nodded. "The _Cruel Mistress_ would be pleased to carry you to Spain."

"Th-Thank you," Beatrice stuttered, her eyes wide as she stared at the captain. Krystal frowned at her in confusion then glanced at Erik who had the same expression on what little she could see of his face. She smirked and nodded in realization.

"Not quite what you were expecting in a captain I take it," she smiled.

"No," Beatrice blurted then shook it away and caught herself. "I mean to say that, well, you are a woman!"

"I get that quite a lot," Krystal smiled. "No hard feelings, I merely go my way without caring what people think of me. I take it you met my first mate, Matthew Warren?"

"Yes," Beatrice nodded. "My name is Beatrice, and this is my husband, Erik." She gestured to Erik who nodded in greeting.

"You have last names, don't you?" Krystal smiled, and Beatrice looked at Erik in horror.

"LaRouche," Erik replied simply. "Erik and Beatrice LaRouche." Krystal nodded and turned a stern look at Matthew.

"What are you waiting for, lad?! Take their bags to the guest cabin!" Matthew saluted and grabbed their bags then ran down a hatch in the middle of the deck.

"Will there be any more passengers?" Beatrice wondered.

"No," Krystal said simply. "Just you two."

"Only us?" Beatrice breathed in disbelief and Erik stood next to her as he placed his arm around her waist, making her blush. "I thought this was a passenger vessel!"

"I don't usually take passengers, but for you, I made an exception. This is a cargo vessel."

"Why did you make the exception?" Erik couldn't help but wonder.

"I heard why you wanted to leave here and I understand completely. I won't turn you in to the police. I myself have a bit of lawlessness in me."

"How did you here about us?" Beatrice wondered a bit worriedly. Erik held her closer, as if ready to take her away if things got bad.

"I have people," Krystal shrugged.

"You mean spies," Erik nearly growled. Krystal looked at him in mild surprise and scoffed.

"Something like that," she smirked. "I have to know my passengers if I take them on."

"We do not need help from people who would spy to get information," Erik replied in a growl then turned to Beatrice. "I will get our bags, dear. We are not sailing with this _pirate_." He took her hand and turned to the hatch that Matthew ran into.

"Mr. LaRouche," Krystal called, calmly and he stopped. "I must say, you're holding your temper a bit better than I expected. Let me say that I don't take offense by your calling me a pirate. But I will say that I take some offense at you wanting to leave my ship. We'll get you to Spain without any problem. I'm not easy with trust, but I'll ask you to not judge me at first sight. I know you wouldn't want to be judged by your outsides, would you?" Beatrice stared at Krystal in disbelief then looked at Erik with wide eyes as he turned to face her, standing tall.

"Capitaine Robyn," he mumbled and Beatrice wrapped her arms half way around his chest, not wanting him to advance. "You have a way with words."

"I take it you'll sail the _Cruel Mistress_?" Krystal smirked and Erik simply nodded. Krystal turned to Beatrice who looked at her in disbelief again. "Your husband doesn't say much, but when he does, he makes his point simply."

"Thank you," Beatrice could only say. She couldn't believe that Erik had given in so easily. She expected him to keep walking and get their bags, dragging her behind him. This was totally new for him, and she couldn't pinpoint what changed him.

"This way to your cabin, Mr. and Mrs. LaRouche," Krystal gestured to the hatch Matthew had run into. Erik and Beatrice followed Krystal with Erik gripping Beatrice's hand the whole time. Krystal led them to a small room with one bed and their bags sat on the window seat beneath a window flooded with moonlight.

"It seems another one of your rules is going to be broken on this ship, hm?" Erik whispered in Beatrice's ear.

"Maybe it will not be so bad," Beatrice murmured back. "That is, _if_ you keep your hands to yourself." Krystal turned to them and smiled.

"Enjoy your stay on our ship," she said. "The _Cruel Mistress_ will see you to Spain as safely as possible." They nodded and whirled around when they heard footsteps hurriedly coming toward them.

"Captain!" Matthew gasped for breath. "Po-Police! They're boarding to search the ship!"


	7. Hiding and Realizing

_**Chapter 7: Hiding and Realizing**_

"What can I do for you gentlemen?" Krystal wondered politely to the policemen on her deck.

"We must search your ship," the leader of the crowd of lawmen replied.

"May I ask why?"

"We are looking for a fugitive. He may be aboard."

"I assure there is no fugitive on _this_ ship, Sirs. I check my ship thoroughly for stowaways before setting sail."

"He is known for being unseen. He may have slipped on without your knowing."

"Alright, then," Krystal shrugged. "If you must. But I assure you that you will find nothing on this ship but cargo going to Spain." The leader turned to his group of men and directed them where to search. Krystal was about to walk to her cabin but was stopped by a hand on her shoulder.

"No, Capitaine," the policeman said sternly. "You stay here. I would not want you trying to hide anything."

"Why should I try to hide anything if I have nothing to hide?" she wondered, crossing her arms in front of her.

"Clever, but I am sure you have _something_ to hide." Krystal shrugged at him and stomped her foot three times making the man frown at her in suspicion. "Why did you do that?"

"I had an itch on my foot," she replied simply but the policeman thought otherwise and turned to one of his men.

"You!" he shouted at him. "Check below deck! Right beneath le capitaine's position!" The man nodded and ran down a hatch and the policeman turned back to Krystal with a smug grin. She merely glared at him in what could only be described as annoyance. She did _not_ like delays.



"Be quiet, mates," Matthew whispered, leading Erik and Beatrice through the bowels of the ship. When Krystal had stomped her foot, that had been their signal to run and hide. But where? The police were searching the ship thoroughly, and there weren't many barrels or crates that the police wouldn't find. Matthew ran from one room to another, only to leave it again saying they would find them there. Erik followed right behind him, gripping Beatrice's hand tightly as she stumbled behind him.

"Matthew, are you going to hide us are not?!" Erik hissed in an impatient whisper.

"Hang on, mates," he replied calmly. "We'll have to go down to the belly. Stay close."

"Erik," Beatrice whispered. "I am afraid!" He stopped and pulled her under his cloak wrapping his arm around her shoulders.

"I am here with you, mon ami," he whispered as he began following Matthew again. The young man ran down a set of stairs and the couple followed.

"Wait here, you two," Matthew whispered as he went back up the stairs, leaving Erik and Beatrice at the bottom of the ship. Beatrice pulled closer to Erik and he suddenly felt her shuddering.

"I am so afraid," she confessed in a breathy whisper. "I have never been so afraid, but once, and I never wanted to feel that way again."

"It is almost done, mon ami," Erik whispered, holding her closer. "We will be in Spain and no one will be after us. You will be happy, I promise you."

"As long as you are safe, Erik," she replied as her hands slipped up to his collar and gripped it. "That is all I need to make _me_ happy."

Erik sighed as he held her, afraid that moving any more would break the sweet feeling of her being near him. This woman was becoming more than a friend to him. She was turning into his comfort and steady rock in the turbulent sea of his life. She wanted him safe, and in turn, he wanted her happy. They would survive together, as friends, or married unofficially. They would make it, but first, they had to get to Spain and out of France.

"Erik?"

"Yes?"

"Sing for me?" Erik looked at her in shock but couldn't help the smirk that crossed his lips.

"We should be as quiet as possible right now, mon ami," he whispered. "But perhaps after all of this." Beatrice nodded and buried her face into his chest as she pulled her arms around his torso.

They heard some footsteps above them and held their breath, hoping they wouldn't find the hidden stairway. The steps neared the area Matthew had gone through to go above deck again, and Erik gripped Beatrice's wrist quickly, then dragged her toward the stern. He ducked behind a crate and shoved Beatrice to the floor in a sitting position then threw his cloak over her.

"Keep this over you, and do not move or speak," he whispered and she nodded. He peeked over the crate just enough so that he could see the rest of the area without being seen himself. The only color on him was his mask, but if a policeman came in, he would not be spotted so easily.

Beatrice gasped when she heard footsteps directly above them, and Erik glanced at the ceiling then toward the wall. There was another set of stairs, but who knew if they were hidden? Thinking quickly, Erik grabbed a tall crate that was across from him and pushed it toward the stairs. It stopped right next to it and he shuffled back toward Beatrice.

"Stay quiet," he reiterated and grabbed her arm then dragged her toward the crate. They heard a creek and Beatrice stared at him in horror. He pinned her between the crate and his body then peeked one eye around the crate to see a bit of candle light above the stairs and heard footsteps marching down the stairs. He wrapped an arm around Beatrice, as he saw a policeman stop at the bottom and look around. Erik slowly and quietly guided Beatrice to the side of the crate away from the policeman as he walked deeper into the room. The couple ducked beneath the stairs quietly and Erik pulled his cloak around both of them.

Beatrice looked at him and gestured to her face, making him frown at her in confusion. She made the same gesture and he shook his head saying he didn't know what she wanted. She reached up and yanked his mask off and held it close to her. He realized that she was making it easier for them to hide, because he would be spotted easily by his mask glowing in the candle light.

"Oh, Sir there's nothing down here," they heard Matthew say as he came down the stairs they hid beneath. "Just cargo, as you can see." The policeman said nothing as he walked deeper into the room, and Erik pulled his cloak all the way over himself and Beatrice.

"Why is this crate pushed all the way to the stair?" the policeman asked of the crate Erik had moved.

"I don't know, Sir," Matthew said honestly. "Maybe the Captain moved it. Honestly, my captain can confuse me at times. She likes things a certain way."

"You talk too much, boy," the policeman noticed, and Erik and Beatrice noticed his voice was fading a bit. They heard his footsteps going back up the stairs, and Matthew began chatting again. He was obviously nervous. They heard the creek they had heard before, and they both sighed in relief.

"That was too close," Erik breathed.

"Erik," Beatrice whispered. "Your mask." Erik looked down at her as she held it toward him. He took it and placed it on his face again, but said nothing. "I am sorry I did it. I just thought that if the light from the candle hit your mask---"

"We would be found out," Erik finished with a smirk. "It is alright, mon ami. I thought of that too." Beatrice sighed in relief and leaned her head on his chest as they sat and waited for Krystal of Matthew to come get them.



"Well, Capitaine Robyn, it seems you were telling the truth," the policeman said as his men regrouped on the deck.

"I'm glad you were proved wrong, for my ships sake, and my reputation," Krystal replied, meaning it as an insult.

"So am I, Capitaine. We will leave your ship now. Adieu." The group of policemen walked off the ship and onto the dock. Krystal snarled in agitation and turned to Matthew.

"Go tell the happy couple that it's safe now," she hissed quietly, not knowing if the policemen were still in earshot. Matthew nodded and ran down a hatch to do as he was told. Krystal walked to her cabin and slammed the door closed behind her. She walked toward her desk and sat at the chair on the other side with a heavy sigh.

She wasn't upset at the couple she now had on her ship. She was upset because now she was behind schedule, by at least an hour. It had taken the stupid police that long to search the ship, and thankfully her fare hadn't gotten caught. Taking on passengers (especially a fugitive) was harder than she thought it would be.

Krystal had thought that taking on passengers would be no different than taking on cargo. And if she took on a fugitive, she thought it would be similar to taking on stolen merchandise she often smuggled to other countries. In all reality, it _wasn't_ any different. She could get in real trouble for either crime, but _people_ were harder to hide than _cargo_.

She stood up and walked back to the door and flung it open to call for Matthew. He came back up from the hatch and hurriedly ran toward her.

"Where did you take the LaRouches?" she demanded.

"They're in their cabin, ma'am," Matthew replied.

"Get the husband. I have to talk to him." Matthew nodded and ran to do what he was told as Krystal walked back into her cabin, but left the door open. Several minutes later, Matthew knocked on the open door to get her attention as she stood in front of her desk with her back facing the door. She turned around and Matthew nodded as he gestured to Erik standing with him.

"You wanted to see me, Capitaine?" Erik said, standing as tall as he could and stone faced.

"Yes, Erik," Krystal replied walking to the other side of her desk and sitting in her chair. "That will be all, Matthew. Wake the rest of the crew and tell them to get ready to set sail and keep away from the guest cabin."

"Yes, ma'am," Matthew nodded and ran off to his duty. Krystal turned back to Erik.

"Close the door, if you please, Mr. LaRouche?" she smiled, raising a hand to the door. Erik nodded and did as she asked then turned back to the captain but said nothing. "You can thank me later for giving the order to keep away from your cabin." He still said nothing as he stood at attention. Krystal sighed and sat back in her chair, propping her feet up on the desk and cradling the back of her head in her hands. "Tell me, Erik, are you and that wife of yours newly weds, or old mates?"

"Newly weds," Erik replied.

"Spending your honeymoon in Spain, are you?"

"I thought you knew everything about us already."

"Well, around your marriage is a bit fuzzy. See, I know about the opera house, and the ballet teacher that hid you there, and your beloved Christine Daaé, the opera singer---"

"A brilliant talent," Erik corrected and Krystal smirked in amusement.

"Right," she nodded, sitting up and standing. "I know all of that, but where it gets confusing is after that. You see if you lived under the opera house all your life, and you were so distraught over the fact that no one could love you because of your face, how is it that you end up married?"

"How is it that _you_ know so much about _me_, Capitaine Robyn?" Krystal scoffed and stood to walk to a small box on a shelf to her right.

"I have my sources," she shrugged as she opened the box and pulled out two glass bottles. "You never answered my question."

"Did you really answer mine?" Krystal scoffed again and walked a bit toward him.

"No," she shrugged. "Not really. But do you care?"

"Of course I care! You cannot know everything about me without a reason or source!" Krystal smirked and shoved a bottle in his hand.

"Have a drink, Mr. LaRouche," she smiled, walking back to her desk and sitting in her seat. "If that is in fact your name? Beatrice was a bit hesitant about the last name when I asked her about it. But maybe it was just me." Erik looked down at the floor a moment, then at the bottle.

"What is this?"

"Rum," Krystal grinned, opening her bottle and taking a swig. "Go ahead. Have some." Erik opened the bottle and cautiously brought it to his lips. He took a small sip and suddenly began coughing. Krystal couldn't help the laugh that erupted from her throat and Erik glared at her as much as he could while coughing.

"This-This is---repulsive!"

"And yet, so good, right?" Krystal laughed. "You don't have to be afraid to tell me the truth about yourself, you know?" Erik looked at her in surprise as he recovered from his coughing fit. "I won't turn you in…anywhere. As far as _I_ know you two actually _are_ honeymooners going to Spain to celebrate. But mark me: if you cross me, there will be no place that you can hide that I will not find you." Erik nodded.

"I understand," he said in a raw voice.

"I know you do," Krystal smirked. "You and I are not so different, eh?"

"The difference being that _I_ am not willing to repeat _my_ mistakes. I will never do what I have done to anyone else."

"You mean that pretty thing you're dragging around with you?" Erik glared at Krystal angrily as she sat back in her seat. "You can't tell me that if you fall in love with her, you won't make her want you."

"Perhaps you misunderstood me," he said, walking toward her and leaning on the table with his hands after putting the bottle down. "I will _not_ do what I have done to anyone else, meaning that I will not _kill_ for no reason, or force someone to stay with me."

"And yet, isn't that what you're doing to that girl?" Erik looked at her in shock and she scoffed. "You _made_ her come with you, didn't you?"

"I _asked_ if she would come! I did not drag her into the carriage kicking and screaming in protest!"

"Oh, the subtle ways people can be forced," Krystal smiled. "She felt obligated to go with you."

"She has come with me because she is my friend. She even chose the country we should run to!"

"And I suppose she said she only wanted your happiness, eh?" Erik stared at her in disbelief.

"Y-Yes."

"It makes you happy for her to go where you go, right?"

"Yes."

"I rest my case," Krystal shrugged, taking another swig of rum.

Erik stared into space in disbelief. He had never thought that you could do that to someone without _physically_ forcing them to do something. He thought that Beatrice had decided on her own to go, but then he realized that it had to be partially because of his persuasion and (he had to face it) begging. He made a decision then, he had to get her off this ship. She didn't want to go. She was only going for him. And if he had forced her, he wouldn't have her there. She had to _want_ to be there.

"Well, mate," Krystal groaned as she stood up. "We set sail at dawn, which is not too far away. You both have time to change your minds about sailing this ship, but you had better make up your minds fast." She walked toward the door and past Erik.

"Why is it that you want us to stay on your ship, but now you want us to disembark?" Erik wondered when she reached the door. She stopped but didn't turn and instead placed her hands on the doors, preparing to push them open when she was finished talking.

"I'm not trying to persuade you to stay or leave," she admitted. "I simply want you to think about what you're doing. I want you to consider everything that you've been through, and everything that you've done. Before you make the decision to leave France, your home, you should make sure it's what you want."

"Did you do that when you decided to engage in this occupation?" Erik wondered, as unmoving as she was.

"I wish I could say I did," Krystal scoffed. "This way of life was thrown upon me, and I fell in love with it. This is what I want now, but I'm not sure if it's what I wanted back then." Erik nodded, but still, neither moved. "Go to your 'wife,' Erik," she said, opening the doors. "She probably misses you, and I'm sure you have something to say to her."

"Yes," Erik sighed, finally turning and walking toward the door as Krystal moved out of the way. "I _do_."


	8. Comings and Goings

_**Chapter 8: Comings and Goings**_

Erik stood outside the guest cabin door, knowing that Beatrice was on the other side doing, he could only imagine what. He hoped and prayed she wasn't unpacking. He had to tell her that he was not going to let her go with him after all just because it was what _he_ wanted. _She_ had to _want_ to go, and he knew it had been hard to get her to go with him. This indicated to him that she didn't want to go, and that she was simply going for him. He was not going to have it.

He gripped the knob with a shaky gloved hand. She was _not_ going to be happy with him. He had gotten her this far and now he was sending her back, and he knew all of this was absurd from the beginning, but he had made a mistake in asking her to come with him, and he was going to fix it.

Erik quickly opened the door…without knocking! Beatrice shrieked and spun around as Erik quickly slammed the door shut and faced it again. Once again, he had caught her changing. She was only in her corset and preparing to take her petticoats off when he had walked in. Erik had slammed the door shut not wanting anyone that might be around to see her like that. He heard her shuffling around obviously trying to find a robe or something to cover herself.

"I-I am sorry," Erik finally choked, not turning around.

"This is the _second_ time you have done this, Erik," she said with a hint of amusement. "I am sure now that you must be timing these moments when I change."

"Of course I am not!" Erik spat quickly, feeling his face becoming red. "This was simply an accident again!"

"I know, Erik!" Beatrice laughed. "I was joking!"

"In any case," he choked, changing the subject to what he needed to say. "I had hoped you would not change yet. I will have to ask you to get dressed again."

"I plan on changing into my nightwear."

"I need you to dress in your travel clothes again."

"Are we leaving the ship?"

"No." He couldn't finish. How was he supposed to tell her this?! She was going to be so upset with him, he knew that already. He stiffened when he felt a hand on his shoulder and he turned his head to see Beatrice looking at him with wide eyes filled with curiosity and worry. She was wearing his cloak around her undergarments, and it made Erik react like he would have never thought he would react to a woman before. The fact that she was wearing _his_ clothes to cover herself made him feel…proud for whatever reason.

"Erik?" she breathed. "Why must I get dressed?"

"_You do not have to,_" a bad voice echoed in his head.

"Because you are going back to the dock," Erik answered quickly.

"You mean 'we'?"

"No. You alone."

Silence. Beatrice stared up at Erik in disbelief and he looked at her without expression. He could only imagine what she was thinking now. After asking her to come with him, he was telling her to go back. He was being extremely wishy-washy with this whole thing, and he thought that if he explained himself, she wouldn't be so mad.

He opened his mouth to explain, but found himself being pummeled by tiny, but painful hands. She had dropped is cloak and was now hitting him but not making any noise. She was simply hitting him with closed fists slamming into his chest and arms as he tried to defend himself.

"Beatrice!" he tried.

"Do not call for me to stop, because I will not!" she shouted, still hitting him. "You want me with you and then when we reach the ship to leave you tell me to go back?! Do not give me an explanation just tell me why you are acting so stupid!"

"Stupid?!"

"Yes! Stupid! Do not ask me to leave you on this ship, because I will not! You mean too much to me for me to let you go to Spain alone! And you promised we could go where _I_ wanted to go! You cannot make me choose our destination and then tell me I am not going!"

"Beatrice---!"

"No! This is not fair! I am not leaving this ship! I want to go to Spain too!"

Erik somehow found an opening in her punches and gripped her wrists then pulled them behind her back by wrapping his arms around her waist. This made her body push against his and their eyes locked as he pulled her close.

"I am sorry," he whispered, knowing that this was breaking one of the rules she had set down earlier. "I must ask you something, and I want you to be completely honest, no matter how much you think you might hurt me." Beatrice swallowed and nodded, her heart pounding in her chest so hard she was sure he could feel it. "Are you coming with me because I asked you and you want my happiness, or because you truly wish to go?"

"I am going because I want your happiness _and_ because I wish to go," she replied without hesitation. "You cannot make me do anything I do not wish to do, Erik. Not even you in all your persuasion can make my mind up for me." Erik studied her face for a long time before sighing in relief. She smiled and laid her head on his chest as he still held her hands behind her. He suddenly realized that she had dropped his cloak and she was now in nothing but her undergarments and held her at arms length then turned around.

"Get dressed, Beatrice," he mumbled and he heard her give a small gasp and start shuffling around again.

"Matthew told me that you and I should stay here during the day," she explained. "He said he will bring us our meals."

"Why can we not go on the deck?" Erik wondered.

"He said that Capitaine Robyn did not want her crew knowing that she had taken on passengers because then they would want to give their friends and relatives free rides to wherever they wished to go."

"A good reason, I suppose."

"Erik?"

"Yes?"

"You said that you sing for me when the police left." She placed her hand on his shoulder again. "Will you now?" He turned to face her as she stood in a long black silk nightgown. He swallowed and smiled as best he could making her frown. She was having an effect on him and she had no idea, which made her even more attractive to him.

"Of course, I will, mon ami," he murmured. Her face lit up and he chuckled a bit as she ran to the bed and jumped in then pulled the covers over herself. He walked toward the bed and sat on the edge as she laid back and snuggled under the blankets.

She wanted him to sing her to sleep. He wasn't sure if he could sing a lullaby, but he had to try. He placed a hand on her forehead and gently stroked her hair back as she closed her eyes and smiled, much to his surprise. He had expected her to become angry and say that he was breaking one of her rules.

_What does the free fall feel like?_

_Asks the boy with the spark in his eye_

_Know why the nightingale sings_

_It's the answer to everything_

_Taking a step to the world unbound_

_Spinning my fantasies all around_

_Freed from the gravital leash_

_I swear the heaven's in my reach_

He sang softly, soothingly, and stroked her hair as he sang. She needed sleep after everything that had happened, and if he could kill two birds with one stone (getting her to sleep and granting her request for a song) he would.

_Dancing with the spirit of the air_

_In this ocean so open and fair_

_Making love to the gods above_

_On my maiden voyage so bold_

_Landing safely in the blue lagoon_

_Don't know if this is the earth or the moon_

_Joy of living is no more a mask_

_The Eden I found will forever last_

He smiled slightly as she sighed. She snuggled to his hand and he caught himself gazing over her face, not for the first time, while she slept. She was truly peaceful, and he only wished he could stare at her like this forever. He may very well be able to do that when they reached Spain, but not yet.

He sighed and pulled away from her before he lost himself completely in his daydreaming. He looked around and found his cloak sitting on the window seat. He took it and rolled it into a ball then lowered himself to the floor. He wouldn't take advantage of this opportune moment to slip into bed with Beatrice, breaking one of her rules. He didn't mind the floor anyway, and if he got too uncomfortable, he could sleep on the cushioned window seat. He placed his cloak beneath his head for an ersatz pillow, and tried to sleep.

_Migrating with the geese_

_My soul had finally found peace_

_Doesn't matter that man has no wings_

_As long as I hear the nightingale sing_

"Erik?" Beatrice suddenly called, and he looked behind him to see her frowning at him as she hung over the side of the bed.

"Yes?"

"Why are you on the floor?" Erik frowned in confusion and sat up.

"I thought you did not want us to sleep in the same bed?"

"Oh, well, yes, but I did not think you would go so far as to sleep on the floor!"

"Apparently you do not know me as well as you thought." He lay back down with his back facing her and she rolled her eyes.

"Erik," she called and he turned around again. "Come up here with me." Erik looked at her in surprise as he sat up again.

"I thought---"

"I am cold," she interrupted. "Do not argue with me. I will not have you sleep on the floor." Erik looked at her in shock as she moved over for him to slip into the bed next to her. Now _she_ was being confusing! Was she teasing him? Did he care? Apparently not because he shot to his feet and got into the bed a bit too quickly. She giggled as he kicked off his shoes and stripped down to his shirt and trousers. It had been a long night, and he couldn't wait to get into a soft, warm bed. Erik laid back and sighed in relaxation as he felt all of his muscles give way to comfort and he sunk into the mattress.

"Are you comfortable?" Beatrice smiled as he closed his eyes.

"Yes," he breathed.

"Good," she chirped and curled up next to him. He opened one eye to see her snuggling to his chest with a slight smile.

"Are you breaking one of your rules again?"

"Obviously." Erik chuckled at her response as he shut his eyes again. "I believe that I was a bit harsh when I made those rules. So, from this point on, the rules no longer apply. I trust you to be a gentleman and a respectful one at that. Do you promise, Erik?" He said nothing. "Erik?" She looked up at him and found him sleeping, making her smile. She slowly reached for his mask and pulled it off then set it in one of her trunks by the bed so they would not forget it or lose it.

She curled up under his chin, and even though he was asleep, she couldn't help but feel exhilaration at being near him. He was powerful and mysterious and too handsome for his own good, even with his deformed side. She knew that he cared for her very much, and that he had only told her to leave to protect her, but it had hurt her when she thought he truly wanted her to leave him there. She really had wanted to go wherever he went because she didn't want to be without him after finding him again.

When Madame Giry had told her she might never see Erik again, she had cried, claiming that she loved him, even after one day. But now she understood, she had been too young to know if she truly loved him or not. However, losing him as friend had been just as hurtful, and she wouldn't go through it again. She wouldn't lose him again to this world. She would stay with him for as long as she could, and she would stay as close to him as possible, in every way.


	9. Storm

_**Chapter 9: Storm**_

Erik woke up in pain only to find himself on the floor and the ship rocking fiercely. He rubbed his forehead and realized his mask had been removed. Erik looked at the trunk by the bed and saw that Beatrice had placed it there and he hurriedly put it back on then looked for Beatrice but she no where to be found. He scrambled to his feet and headed for the door. She wouldn't have left the room if she was told not to. Then again if something was wrong she would do the exact opposite of what she was told. The ship rocked again and he had to struggle to keep his balance, gripping at any beam or something stable he could find.

"Beatrice!" he called. No response. He heard shouting above him on deck and frowned at the ceiling. He suddenly rammed into someone and found himself once again on the floor.

"Mr. LaRouche!" Matthew cried. "What are you doing out of your room?!"

"Beatrice is gone!" Erik replied as they stood. The young man looked at the masked man in horror.

"We've hit a storm!" Matthew informed him. "You had better find her."

"I know!" Erik growled, gripping the collar of Matthew's shirt. "I know I have to find her, but where do I start?!"

"Try the galley," Matthew replied calmly. He had more important things to worry about than this man beating him up. "It's that way." Matthew pointed him in the direction of the galley and Erik let him go as he ran toward it. Erik rounded into a room that looked like a kitchen and stumbled when the boat rocked a bit.

"Beatrice!" he called. No answer. He looked under the tables and chairs, in the cupboards, anywhere he thought she would hide. "Beatrice!" Finally he heard a small whimper and whipped his head toward a barrel sitting in a corner. He ran toward it and looked inside. What he found made him sigh in relief. Beatrice was curled up in a ball at the bottom, her hands over her ears. He reached in and touched her arm making her jump and look at him with wide eyes filled with fear.

"Erik!" she cried and threw herself into his arms.

"Why did you leave the room," he asked, soothingly.

"I felt the ship rocking and I thought something was wrong so I was going to find Krystal to ask her what was going on," she began to sob and Erik rolled his eyes.

"It is just a storm, mon ami," he whispered. "There is no need to---" The ship rocked fiercely again and they fell to the floor, taking the barrel with them. The barrel started rolling and taking Beatrice with it by her legs.

"Erik!" she cried, not knowing what to do. He couldn't help but chuckle as he walked toward her and gripped her arms then pulled her up to her feet and out of the barrel. She turned into him and sobbed into his chest as he wrapped his arms around her.

"We should go back to the room," he suggested. "We will be safer there."

"Captain!" they heard Matthew cry on deck.

"Man overboard!" another man shouted, and the couple looked at each other in horror.



"Matthew! Tie down that line!" Krystal shouted from the helm and Matthew ran to his duty. The storm was worse than Krystal had predicted, and she mentally kicked herself for endangering her ship, her crew, her cargo and her fare like this. One bolt of lightening in the right place could mean the end of them all. Not to mention one wave hit just right and they could capsize.

"Captain!" Matthew cried.

"I see it!" she shouted back. She saw an upcoming wave and spun the helm to the left. The ship turned but the wave was quicker. She slipped on the water that now soaked the deck and fell to the floor, still holding onto the helm. She was suddenly surrounded by a dark ominous shadow and looked up to see the wave she had tried to avoid looming over the ship.

The wave hit like a ton of bricks and Krystal found herself being pulled from the helm with such force that she couldn't counter it. She floated in the sea water around her, off of her ship and drifting away from it faster than she could swim. She saw its belly below the water and scrambled to the surface for air then tried to swim to it.

"Captain!" she heard Matthew cry.

"Man overboard!" another man shouted, and she knew she was done for. She swam as fast as she could against the current, but it seemed that the sea didn't want her to return to her ship. She stopped swimming and simply floated with her head above the water. She was tired, and there was no way that she was going to get back to her ship.

"Erik!" she heard a familiar voice cry, faintly. She saw someone dive from the ship, but that was it before she let herself sink below the waves.



"Erik!" Beatrice screamed as she watched the masked man jump off the railing of the ship and into the water below. He ignored her. He had to. He was not going to let that captain get away with not telling him how she knew what she did about him before her death.

He let the current take him farther from the ship and looked around for any sign of Krystal. He dove beneath the surface and looked for her. He saw her sinking fast and felt his heart race in panic when he saw she wasn't moving. He came up for a deep breath and dove again. He swam as fast as he could to get to her then gripped her hand and pulled her toward him, wrapping his arms around her waist to begin his ascent to the surface.

He came up with a gasp and looked around. The salt water stung his eyes, but he managed to make out the ship…coming closer?! He made sure Krystal's head was above water and tried swimming toward the ship. He made out a rope being thrown off the edge, and soon found it in his hand. The crew pulled them out of the water and onto the deck. Beatrice ran to them and gasped when she saw Krystal wasn't moving.

"Out of the way!" Erik barked at the crew as he ran to the captain's cabin with Beatrice following him. He set her on the table and felt for her pulse.

"Erik---" Beatrice tried.

"Shush!" he snapped making her jump back slightly. He sighed in relief when he found a pulse and propped Krystal's head up. Without hesitation, he slapped her with an open palm across the face.

"Erik!" Beatrice gasped in disbelief. Krystal's eyes shot open and she began coughing up water as she sat up. Beatrice sighed in relief and ran to the captain. "Are you alright, Capitaine Robyn?" Her only response was a nod as she coughed.

"Who---?" she coughed.

"Erik went into the water after you," Beatrice replied, knowing what Krystal wanted to know.

"Thank---"

"Thank me later," Erik smirked, and she smiled with a cough as Beatrice frowned at them in confusion but said nothing.



"Who are they, Matthew?" one of the crew members asked the young man after the storm had passed and the crew sat in the galley. Matthew shook his head.

"I can't tell you," he replied. "You wanna know who they are? Ask the captain." The men groaned and Matthew chuckled as he served himself some rum.


	10. Her Hero

_**Chapter 10: Her Hero**_

"Erik, that was very brave of you," Beatrice smiled as they changed from their wet clothes in their room. They stood on either side of the room, their backs facing each other.

"I only did what anyone would do," Erik said taking his shirt off and throwing it to the floor. "I am no hero."

"You saved her life, did you not?" Beatrice argued, slipping her nightgown off. "Saving a life would make you a hero."

"Heroes have no flaws," Erik replied, rummaging through his suitcase. Beatrice glanced behind her as he stood and she caught a glimpse of his well sculpted back. She blushed and turned back to what she was doing.

"What flaws could you possibly have?" she mumbled beneath her breath so that he wouldn't hear.

"Did you say something?" he asked.

"No," she lied. She slipped the top of her gown to her waist then picked up a towel to dry off the water on her skin. Erik turned slightly and caught a sight of her bare back as she pulled her hair over her shoulder to dry it. His eyes lingered a bit before he turned around again, realizing that he shouldn't do that.

"_That is the last time I do that,_" he thought.

"Erik?"

"Yes?"

"What made you say that our last name was LaRouche?"

"Is that not _your_ last name?" Beatrice glanced back for a second, but then looked toward her wall in disbelief.

"You remembered my last name?!"

"Of course," Erik chuckled at her tone of shock. "You did not think I would forget that so easily, did you?"

"You _did_ forget who I was," she reminded.

"Yes," he groaned in irritation. "But it is all coming back to me now." Beatrice giggled slightly. "What?"

"It is just very ironic," she replied, pulling on another nightgown.

"What is?"

"Do you remember when we promised that we would marry when we were older?" Erik frowned in confusion at his wall in front of him. Of all the memories he had, one would think that _that_ memory would echo in his mind more than once. Then again, one would also think that meeting Beatrice would stick with him longer than a simple day. It suddenly hit him. They _had_ pledged to marry when they grew up! And _he_ had been the one to ask her! How could he forget that?!

"I remember," he murmured. Beatrice frowned at his back for a moment at his tone. It was meant to be a happy memory. Why then did he sound so sad? She walked around the bed toward him and placed her hand gently on his shoulder. She felt him stiffen beneath her touch.

"I thought it ironic," she whispered with a smile. He looked at her over his shoulder and smiled back. He suddenly scooped her into his arms and hugged her close making her stiffen and blush in surprise.

"It is," he whispered against her ear. She shivered and brought her hands up to his arms. She jumped slightly when she felt how muscular he was and wondered how someone like him would be rejected by the world.

"Erik---" She was interrupted when she felt something lightly running down her neck.

His lips! Why was he doing this?! Didn't she tell him not do this?! No! The rules no longer applied! She realized then that disabling the rules she had laid down was a mistake with this man. But she wasn't stopping him. In fact, she let her head lull a bit to the side so he had more access to her neck as she closed her eyes. She felt like she could do nothing to stop him or herself from letting him do this.

"Erik…" she breathed and he suddenly froze. Her eyes opened and she looked at him in wonder. "Erik?"

"I am sorry," he said, letting her go. "I should not have done that." Beatrice stared in disbelief as he sat on the bed and held his head in his hands and she sighed. She sat next to him but he didn't move. She raised her hand and tugged at his chin to look at her. She noticed his eyes were watering and immediately felt herself start to well up. She fought back her tears and leaned into him. He didn't move, not knowing what she was doing. Her arms slid around his neck and her eyes closed as she drew closer. Erik suddenly realized what she was going to do and couldn't help his arms from wrapping around her. He sucked in a breath when her lips brushed against his and she smiled a bit.

"Why?" he breathed.

"Because I wish to kiss you," Beatrice whispered back. "I will not take no for an answer," she smirked. She pressed her lips lightly onto his and he pulled back a bit but she wouldn't have it. She pulled him by the neck toward her again and their lips met fully and Erik immediately melted into the kiss. He pulled her closer to deepen the kiss and she groaned in approval.

His tongue plunged into her mouth and explored it eagerly. He couldn't believe he was doing this, but it felt so right. Holding her mouth with his made him feel like he was in heaven. He had to admit that the kiss Christine had given him could not compare with this one. She had kissed him out of pity and in a plea to let her lover go. But Beatrice was kissing him because she wanted to, she had said it, and he had no reason to doubt her.

She ran her fingers through his hair and stroked her tongue against his in an attempt to make him groan as she had. He did and she felt herself being pushed back and let her body fall back onto the bed. He still kissed her as they now lay on the bed and his hands ran down the sides of her body to her hips.

His eyes suddenly shot open and he broke the kiss as he scrambled off the bed. Beatrice sat up with a frown of confusion on her face and Erik lost his balance and fell off the edge of the bed. He landed on the floor with a thud and a grunt and Beatrice gasped and crawled to the edge of the bed.

"Erik?!" she cried, hoping he was alright. He shot to his feet and she made out a slight tinge of red staining his visible cheek.

"Excuse me," he nodded and hurriedly walked toward the door.

"Erik! Wait!" He ignored her as she scrambled off the bed. She couldn't help but laugh at what had just happened. "Erik!" she laughed. "Stop!" He stopped when she laughed harder and turned to her as he stood in front of the door. She was doubled over in laughter and he couldn't understand why. He cocked an eyebrow at her in irritation.

"What, pray tell, is so funny, Beatrice?" he wondered with an irritated tone.

"You fell!" she gasped, still laughing. "You are so afraid of what you were doing you fell!" She had to sit on the floor as she laughed. She could hardly breath, she was laughing so hard. Erik simply stared at her as her face turned red from her laughing.

"I know I fell," Erik replied, trying not to get too angry. "I fail to see the humor in that."

"You need to lighten up, then!" She continued laughing, but she stood and walked toward him. She threw herself against his chest and laughed. "Erik, you have to admit, it was rather funny."

"You would not be laughing if _you_ had fallen," Erik pointed out.

"_You_ would," Beatrice retorted. "And do not say you would not, because you would. You would be laughing if I had fallen and was pouting like a child."

"I would not be laughing because you _fell_, then," Erik smirked. "I would be laughing because you were acting like a child." Beatrice gave an open mouthed gasp and hit him in the arm.

"Erik LaRouche!" she scolded. "How dare you even _think_ of laughing at me?!"

"I cannot help it," he smirked and pulled her into his arms. "You can be adorable when you are throwing a tantrum."

"Erik," she said seriously, and placed her hands on his chest, pushing away slightly. "No more games. It is obvious we cannot handle them so well." Erik looked at her in surprise as she walked away and sat on the bed. This girl's moods changed at the drop of a hat. First she was playing, and then she was serious. It was enough to drive him insane if she kept it up. He didn't know what to do with her!

"Alright," he nodded, that being all he could really do. "I am going up on deck for a while."

"Be careful," she said and he nodded.

"Lock this door and do not open it for anyone but Matthew, Capitaine Robyn or myself." Beatrice frowned in total confusion at him.

"Why not?"

"I do not trust these men. Any one of them might take advantage of the fact that _I_ am on deck and _you_ are down here now that they have seen us." Beatrice smirked at his protective nature with her, and nodded.

"I will not open it for anyone, then," she agreed and he closed the door as he walked out.



"Daniel, go put this in front of the guest cabin, eh?" Matthew requested, handing the tray to the older man.

"Sure thing, Matthew," Daniel replied and walked down the hall to do what he was told. Daniel was a handsome man: Tall with chocolate brown hair that fell a bit close to jaw length and sea-green eyes like Erik's with a bit of beard on his jaw.

Daniel turned down a hall and noticed the new male passenger walking down the hall as well and watched as he went above deck. He said nothing about bringing food to him and the woman he was with because he had something else planned. He grinned evilly and hurried down the hall to the guest room.

When he had seen that red-haired woman, and the way her dress clung to her figure, it had driven him wild. He hadn't had affection for near of a year now, and he was desperate for some relief.

He stopped at the guest room door and knocked a bit too impatiently.

"Breakfast!" he called into the door, and heard some shuffling around and the locks unlock on the door before it opened. He felt himself react to the woman that stood framed in the doorway wearing a different gown, but still making his head spin.

"Oh my goodness!" she breathed and gently placed a hand to her mouth. "I thought you were Matthew. He informed me that he was going to be bringing our meals to us."

"Matthew's a bit busy," Daniel replied, and let himself into the room and set the tray on the table by the door.

"Well, thank you for bringing our breakfast for us, but I'll have to ask you to leave now." Daniel turned to the door as if he was going to leave, but instead closed and locked the door. Beatrice felt her heart race with fear as he turned around with a look she recognized too well on his face.

"What's the hurry?" he smirked making Beatrice swallow.

"M-My husband may be back any moment," she stuttered, backing toward the window seat as he closed in on her. "He will be jealous if he found another man with me. He will be so angry there is no telling what he would do."

"Well," Daniel grinned in amusement at her fear. "We had better make this quick then, eh?" He charged at her with arms wide opened and she ducked to the floor then crawled between his legs. She scrambled to her feet and toward the door, but he was too quick and wrapped his arms around her from behind, one hand on her mouth and the other wrestling with her arms to capture then in his hand and keep her still.

Beatrice thrashed her head around until she felt one of his fingers slip into her mouth and she bit hard onto it. He shouted in pain and spun her around but did not let her go. Her mouth being free, she took this opportunity to cry out, but he smothered her again. She shoved him away with as much force as she could muster and when he let her go she slammed into the door.

"Erik!" she screamed without hesitation and Daniel grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her roughly toward him, planting his hand once again to her mouth. She had screamed loud enough, all she had to do now was fight until Erik came and rescued her. Daniel pulled her close to his body and she could feel the purpose of this attack on her leg, making her fight even harder.

"_Not again!_" she thought. "_Please, God! Not again!_" Daniel threw her onto the bed and gripped her wrists in one hand while he tore at his clothing and hers with the other. To keep her quiet he planted his lips harshly onto hers and she fought not to hurl in his mouth, but thought again that maybe that would get him off of her. She did not fight the churning of her stomach when his tongue attacked hers. He smelt of rum and raw eggs and she prayed that Erik hurry to save her.

She kicked and thrashed her head, tears welling in her eyes, but he would not budge. He had hiked her skirts with his free hand up to her waist and she formed a quick plan. She brought one leg beneath him and jammed it hard into his groin, making him groan loudly and his grip loosened a bit on her. She went to shove him off, but he managed to fight through the pain he was experiencing and forcefully started kissing her neck. She cried out again, but his free hand covered her mouth. He brought his lips to her ear and she whimpered as he nibbled at her lobe.

"I'm going to enjoy this," he growled and she screamed into his hand in a vain attempt to cry for help one last time. She was suddenly startled by a growl of anger and Daniel was pulled off of her and thrown to the floor. In his shock he had let go of her and she stayed put on the bed as she saw Erik looming over Daniel with more anger than she had seen from him.

"Get up and die like a man!" Erik growled, and when Daniel did not get up fast enough he pulled him up by the collar and shoved him against the wall, choking the man with his fists on his throat.

"Erik!" Beatrice cried, sitting up, not wanting him to do something he would regret.

"It's alright, Mrs. LaRouche," Krystal said calmly as she strode into the room with Matthew behind her and walked toward the two men as Daniel choked for breath. "You have been a thorn in my side for too long, Daniel," Krystal growled at Daniel as he started to turn blue. "This is the last time you interfere with my business."

"Let me throw him overboard, Capitaine," Erik growled never taking his angry stare from Daniel and Beatrice stared at Krystal in disbelief when she smirked at him.

"No," Krystal sighed, thoughtfully. "I have a _better_ plan for this one." She turned to Matthew and beckoned him to come closer. He did as he was told, and Krystal spoke so low, Beatrice almost didn't hear her…almost. "Prepare for a keel-haul, Mr. Warren," Krystal murmured low. Matthew's face went pale, but he managed to nod and walk back out the door. Krystal turned back to Erik and tapped him on the shoulder. "Let him go now." Erik hesitated before dropping the man to the floor like a rock and staring him down as he coughed for breath.

"Erik…" Beatrice breathed, and this seemed to snap him from his angry trance. Erik whirled around with wide eyes that met Beatrice's gaze of complete shock. Without a second thought he ran toward her place on the bed and wrapped his arms around her, snuggling his face into her hair.

"Are you alright?" he whispered hopefully as Beatrice wrapped her arms around him.

"Yes," was all she could whisper back and he sighed in relief. Beatrice saw Krystal drag Daniel out by the collar and shut the door behind her.

"I heard you scream and I came as quickly as I could," Erik explained. "I am so sorry."

"Why are you apologizing?" Beatrice wondered.

"I should not have left you alone."

"But I opened the door for him. I thought it was Matthew---"

"That does not change the fact that I was not here to protect you."

"Erik---"

"Shhh, Beatrice. Just let me hold you." This took her by surprise, but what could she do? She had nearly been raped, and he wanted to hold her. What was wrong with that? Absolutely nothing! But what was wrong with _her_ that she would rather talk than be comforted? She couldn't even enjoy the fact that she was being held gently when just a moment ago she had been attacked.

"_He wishes to hold you, enjoy it for goodness sake!_" she thought. She snuggled into his shoulder and he held her even closer. He pulled his hands up to the sides of her face and began kissing her…everywhere but her mouth.

"Erik!" she laughed and he looked at her with wide eyes filled with worry.

"What?"

"Why are you doing this?" she smiled so as not to worry him.

"I am merely glad that you are alright and not hurt," Erik replied, still holding her head. "Is this not what husbands do?"

"I am sure they do," Beatrice giggled again. "I was just surprised."

"Shall I ask for permission before I do that again?" Beatrice giggled again at Erik's odd question and nodded. "Very well. Beatrice? May I kiss you all over your face because I am very glad that you are not hurt?"

"Yes, Erik. You may," Beatrice giggled, and he began kissing her face again. She smiled and closed her eyes, taking in the feeling of his lips on her face. She followed the feeling as his lips kissed her eyelids gently, then each cheek, then her chin, then suddenly the side of her neck and just beneath her ear. She moaned in approval as his arms held her close.

"_You are strange, Beatrice,_" she thought to herself. "_You fight for your life to get one man off of you, but __this__ man you let kiss you everywhere! Why?!_" She thought a while longer as Erik's mouth now had a mind of its own and began trailing slightly down her shoulder, and smiled when the thought came to her. "_Because __Erik__ is different._" She wrapped her arms around Erik's neck and pulled his lips to hers. She kissed him with as much passion as she could muster and he did the same, unconsciously. Erik broke the kiss without opening his eyes and began kissing her neck again.

"Erik…" she breathed with a smile.

"Christine…" he breathed back, and her trance was broken. Beatrice froze and gently pushed him away from her, making him frown as they gazed at each other. "Is something wrong?"

"You called me Christine," Beatrice replied, feeling herself choke up, but not allowing herself to succumb to her emotions.

"No," Erik frowned deeper. "I called you by your name."

"I know what I heard, Erik," Beatrice replied in an irritated tone, pushing away from him fully and standing on the other side of the bed. "You called me Christine." She faced away from him, wrapping her arms around herself as she stared out the window.

"Beatrice," Erik tried, but she ran toward the door. He stopped her by gripping her arm and she shook her head violently.

"You have pretended to care for me this whole time!" she cried, still struggling to get away. "For a moment I thought you truly did care for me that way! Now I see that you just want me for a substitute for Christine!"

"You do not know what I want!" Erik growled getting angry that she wasn't cooperating.

"I see it in your eyes!" Beatrice cried back, not letting him frighten her.

"Then look, Beatrice!" he snarled and yanked her hard toward him making her slam into his chest as he wrapped his arms around her. "Look!" Beatrice met his angry gaze as they both breathed heavily from their struggle. What was it about this man that had her craving his presence? She couldn't pinpoint it, and she wasn't sure she cared whether or not she could. She stared into his eyes and saw that behind his anger he was desperate. Desperate for an understanding friend, which she had been up until now.

Her lower lip began to quiver uncontrollably as her guilt flooded her emotions and she let out little sobs that she tried to hold back. Erik's face immediately went from anger to shock at her sudden change. Their gazes had not wavered from the others and she was jerking almost painfully at her sobs, but she managed to keep her eyes fixed on Erik's.

"Erik…" she sobbed. "I am s-so s-sorry!" She threw her arms around his torso and he held her again as she sobbed. "I know you are trying to forget Christine and I am not being a good friend! Please, forgive me!"

"I could never be that upset with you that I would not forgive you, mon ami," Erik whispered, holding her closer and stroking her hair. "You do not even have to ask for forgiveness from me."

"I do!" Beatrice sobbed. "You have been such a good friend to me and I---"

"Beatrice," Erik interrupted gently. "Stop. I am not upset any longer. You are going to make yourself sick if you keep sobbing this way."

"Erik…" she tried but found herself becoming very heavy but her head felt light. Erik gathered her up in his arms and carried her to the bed as she fell limp. She fainted?! Why had she done that? She had not been sobbing that hard.

"It's been a long night," Erik told himself as he laid Beatrice in the bed and pulled the covers over her then stood tall to look at her and sighed. "You are so beautiful, Beatrice," he whispered. "I wish I could watch you forever, mon cheri. But I have to keep you safe from anyone else who decides to hurt you." He walked to the door and sat in front of it, leaning his head back to sleep.

"_You will not be hurt again,_" he thought. "_I will make sure of that._"


	11. Answers

_**Chapter 11: Answers**_

Beatrice took a deep breath of salt air as she stood on the bowspirt, holding onto a rope for balance. She gazed out at the sea as the sun set on hers and Erik's second day on the ship. It ad been a good day. All of Krystal's crew was very nice to her, but Erik was not too far away in case anything happened. She leaned forward a bit and looked down at the water. She never felt so free. Now she understood why Krystal liked this so much.

"Dear Lord," she prayed. "If it is at all possible, could you help Erik with his feelings for Christine? He is trying so very hard to get over her. He really is an angel, no matter what anyone else thinks of him."

"The lord can't get him over a woman, lass," Krystal said suddenly walking up behind her. Beatrice jumped slightly, but didn't fall, thankfully and turned to see the captain of the _Cruel Mistress_. "Only his own heart can get him over that prima donna he left."

"_He_ did not leave her," Beatrice corrected a bit irritably. "_She_ left him and she had no idea what she was giving up when she did."

"Sounds as though you know exactly what you have with your 'husband' eh?"

"I appreciate him a lot more than _she_ did," Beatrice snapped.

"Of course. Why else would you be here?"

"Exactly." Beatrice turned back to the sea and stared into it as Krystal hung onto her own rope and stepped onto the spirt with Beatrice then let herself swing to the red-head's side but kept her feet on the spirt.

"You two have a fight?" Krystal wondered, making small talk. Beatrice glanced at her out of the corner of her eye then looked back at the sea.

"No," Beatrice replied flatly.

"You don't like my company?"

"How is it you know so much about Erik?"

"Get to point quickly, don't you?" Krystal smirked, swinging slightly as she held onto her rope. "Wish I could tell you, lass. But a girl has to keep _some_ secrets. You know what I mean, eh?"

"Certain secrets should be shared," Beatrice retorted. "When those secrets are about finding out information about someone, information that no one else should know about, then they should be shared."

"Clever, but what if those secrets damage the reputation and relationship with the person and those people who got the information?"

"I highly doubt that whatever relationship you have with my husband will be damaged."

"I wasn't talking about _me_, lass," Krystal replied, swinging behind her and to the other side of Beatrice. Beatrice frowned at Krystal who merely smirked in amusement at her confusion. "I believe you know a woman named Antoinette Giry?" Beatrice's eyes shot wide at the mention of the woman who had been like a mother to her _and_ Erik.

"What about Madame Giry?" Beatrice breathed.

"What are you willing to give me for this information?"

"Are you attempting to bribe me after you have already earned money for our boarding your ship?" Beatrice wondered, cocking an elegant eyebrow in intrigue.

"Pirate," Krystal whispered and Beatrice stared at her in disbelief. "I always want more. But you seem like a nice girl, and I like your husband rather well. I'll tell you, but _only_ you. You tell your man, and I'll consider myself stabbed in the back with the knife I gave you, savvy?" Beatrice nodded, unable to refuse the deal if it was to find out how she knew so much about Erik.

"Alright," Krystal nodded, and swung out a bit, still holding her rope. "First things first. I've known Madame Giry since I was a little one. She took me in as her kid sister off the streets of Paris. I was five and she was eighteen, maybe twenty. When I went out to find a job at seventeen, she was very supportive, and when I found my calling, she said not a word. I visit her now and then, and she keeps me up to date with everything going on with her.

"Lately she said she had been having trouble with this Erik character. She told me everything about him, when she rescued him and what he liked, who he liked, all the particulars about the one she called the Little Angel.

"This last time, I visited her not too long after the Opera Populaire burned down and she asked me for a favor. How could I say no, eh? She told me that he would be traveling with a girl that came up in her updates as well. A red-head with golden eyes and the grace and beauty of an angel herself.

"So, as it so happens, now I have a pair of angels on this ship filled with devils…the captain being the leader." Krystal smirked at Beatrice as she stared at her in complete disbelief. "Like I said, sweetheart…you don't be blabbing this to your husband." The captain looked up at the sky and sniffed the air. "Gonna rain soon," she said, walking down the bowspirt. "You'd better get in your cabin."

"Capitaine," Beatrice called, watching Krystal jump onto the deck of her ship. "Madame Giry never mentioned you."

"She wouldn't," Krystal smirked as she stood at the bottom of the spirt. "She never really wanted any of us to know about each other. I had to practically beg her to tell me about anything that happened with her the first time I came to visit."

"But why?" Beatrice wondered as she hurried down the bowspirt. "Why wouldn't she want any of us to know of each other?"

"Why don't you ask _her_ that?" Krystal asked, getting a bit irritated at this girl's curiosity. "I don't know." Beatrice walked in front of Krystal when she didn't move and cautiously looked at the captain.

"How old are you?" Beatrice whispered and Krystal glared at her in examination. What exactly was this girl doing?

"Thirty-five," Krystal muttered.

"Your parents?"

"Dead."

"Siblings?"

"None."

"Lovers?"

"Too many to mention."

"Why is it that you will not tell me why Madame Giry did not want any of us to meet?"

"Because if she hasn't told you then it's none of your business. You should let it go, Mrs. LaRouche." Krystal walked toward her cabin without looking back at Beatrice. Beatrice stared after her but didn't move. Leave it alone? That was pointless. Beatrice would find out, and she would not stop asking Antoinette until she did.

"Beatrice," Erik whispered in her ear as he placed a hand on her shoulder. She jumped and whirled to face him with wide eyes filled with surprise.

"Erik! You scared me!" she gasped and placed her hands on her rapidly beating heart.

"I am sorry," he murmured. "I did not mean to scare you. I thought you would like to rest in our cabin for a while."

"All we do is rest on this ship!" Beatrice whined. "I want to _do_ something!"

"We will be doing a lot of things in Spain," Erik smirked, taking her hands in his. "You will want to go everywhere, I am sure. You will need energy to do that, mon ami." He kissed her knuckles making her blush and smile.

"I suppose you are right," she smiled sweetly.

"I will _always_ be right, mon petite," Erik smirked, coming close to her face. "Always."



Krystal growled in frustration. How could she be so stupid?! So soft?! She had sworn she would not tell Beatrice or Erik how she knew what she did about them. Antoinette was going to be furious with her when she found out, and Krystal knew she would find out. That woman had a way of knowing things no one else could know. Never in her life had Krystal wanted to hit herself a thousand times over for anything she did or said.

Beatrice LaRouche was no ordinary woman if she could coax the truth from the rock solid captain of the _Cruel Mistress_. And Erik…well, that was a different matter. Her past and his had been revealed to her a long time ago, and even now she wanted to go tell him how their pasts were connected, but she had sworn not to tell neither of them that either. Krystal was torn between doing what she knew was right and doing something she hated: breaking a promise.

Krystal knew it had been a bad idea in the first place, but as she had told Beatrice, how could she refuse? She couldn't very well say no to Antoinette when she asked that she help the two after all the woman had done for her. She groaned and let her head fall onto the surface of her desk. These two were more of a headache than anyone else she ever came into contact with, save Daniel.

Daniel. That slimy bilge rat had almost raped that poor girl, and he got what he deserved. Krystal was upset that it had to end the way it did, but the man was a total nuisance. He was a pirate, but at times, he was too much of a pirate. There was a fine line between piracy and insanity and he had been teetering on the edge for as long as she had known him.

Krystal sighed as she pushed thoughts of the man out of her head. There was a more pressing matter to deal with. That being getting the "LaRouches" to Spain without any further problems. Storms, she could handle. Threatening crew members could be taken care of. But when it came to Erik and Beatrice "LaRouche," Krystal knew that her head would explode with everything she wanted to do and say, especially to Erik.


	12. First Day in Spain

_**Chapter 12: First Day in Spain**_

"I will miss you very much, Krystal!" Beatrice smiled as she, the captain, Matthew and Erik all stood at the top of the gangplank. The _Cruel Mistress_ had reached Spain and Beatrice and Erik were just about to walk down to the dock.

"I will miss you as well, Mrs. LaRouche," Krystal nodded but didn't move. "It was a pleasure to have you on board my ship. Have a nice honeymoon in Spain, and please, don't hesitate to ask me for any favors."

"This may be the last time we ask you for a favor," Erik muttered and Beatrice smacked him in the arm.

"Erik!" she hissed. "Where are your manners?!"

"It's alright, Mrs. LaRouche," Krystal smirked. "He and I have an understanding." Beatrice glanced between the captain and her "husband" in confusion.

"We'll miss you, Beatrice!" Matthew grinned and threw his arms around her neck for a hug, making her laugh and hug him back as Erik glared at him.

"Matthew!" Krystal snapped and the three stared at her. "Get off the lady."

"Sorry, ma'am," Matthew said and stepped away from Beatrice. "I'm sorry, Mrs. LaRouche."

"It is quit alright, Matthew," Beatrice smiled, pulling him back. "I am never hugged anymore," she smirked at Erik who stared at her in disbelief. Did he not hold her and kiss her a bit more than he should have?! She was obviously teasing him.

"Well, then," Krystal interrupted. "We have to get going rather quickly this time. I hate to rush the good-byes, but---"

"We understand, Capitaine," Erik nodded, picking up some of his and Beatrice's bags. "Come along, cheri." He nearly ran down the gangplank as Beatrice stared after him in disbelief then turned back to Krystal.

"Thank you again, Capitaine Robyn," she nodded. "Thank you for everything. I hope I'll see you again soon."

"As I hope of you, Beatrice," Krystal nodded back. Beatrice smiled and picked up two of her bags and ran down the plank after Erik.

"Erik!" she called as she reached the dock. "Erik! Wait for me!" She wasn't paying attention and suddenly ran into a person going the other way and found herself on the ground as her bags flew open revealing more than she wanted anyone to see.

"Are you alright, señora?" a man's voice asked with more concern than she had heard in a long time. She suddenly felt herself being pulled up and to her feet then noticed a man kneel toward her bags and packing her things again.

"Monsieur, please," Beatrice begged, kneeling next to him. "You need not help me. It was my fault. I should have been watching where I was going."

"Then we were both to blame," the man replied. "I was not watching where I was going either." They laughed, and Beatrice looked at him for the first time. He was handsome with black hair that had a few dark brown highlights and dark brown eyes that shone with compassion and warmth. He was dressed as a Spanish noble making Beatrice feel very embarrassed at the fact that she knocked into him.

"Thank you, Monsieur…?" Beatrice wanted the name of such a kind man.

"Ruban," the man replied, closing one of her bags and holding a hand to take hers. "Don Ruban Castillo." She gave her his hand and he kissed it gently and chastely. She smiled and he suddenly looked up behind her in near terror. Beatrice frowned and looked up behind her to see Erik standing and glaring down at Ruban who scrambled to his feet.

"Beatrice," Erik growled, prompting an explanation but never taking his eyes off of Ruban.

"Erik," Beatrice replied, standing and dusting herself off. "This is Don Ruban Castillo. He was just helping me with my bags."

"Ruban!" a woman's voice called behind him and all three turned to see a stunning young woman with ebony black hair that fell to her waist and golden eyes that shone just as brightly as Ruban's. She was dressed in expensive wears as well: a golden yellow silk gown that flowed as she ran toward the three.

"Esperanza," Ruban smiled, holding out his arm. The woman ran into his arm and Ruban held her close then turned her toward Erik and Beatrice. "This is my wife, Doña Esperanza Castillo."

"Hola," Esperanza nodded with a slight curtsy.

"It is a pleasure to meet you both," Beatrice replied. "My name is Beatrice LaRouche, and this is my husband, Erik LaRouche."

"You are from France?" Esperanza guessed, and Beatrice nodded.

"We are here for our honeymoon," Erik replied, not wanting Beatrice to say anything different.

"We may stay longer than that," Beatrice replied as honestly as she could.

"Have you ever been here before?" Ruban wondered.

"No, I'm afraid not," Beatrice smiled.

"Would you mind if we were your guides?" Esperanza grinned making Ruban look at her in shock.

"Esperanza…" he scolded.

"That would be wonderful!" Beatrice grinned back. She and Erik needed friends in this foreign country. Esperanza's face lit up and she took Beatrice's hand and led her in the other direction.

"Ruban, mi querido, could you help Señor LaRouche with their bags?" Esperanza called, dragging Beatrice behind her. "Gracias!" Beatrice looked at Erik and shrugged as he glared at her. What really was she to do? Ruban and Erik looked at each other then at the bags, then at each other again, shrugged and picked the bags up following the girls into the crowd. This couldn't be so bad.



"This shawl is so beautiful!" Beatrice grinned as she and Esperanza stood at one of the many venders on a dirt road. She wrapped the shawl around her shoulders and spun around in circles with a smile on her face.

"It suits you," Esperanza giggled as she watched her new friend spin in circles. "Black is certainly your color."

"I've always liked maroon," Beatrice smiled, stopping and removing the shawl to put it back.

"Would like me to buy it for you, cheri?" Erik whispered in her ear as he and Ruban also stood with the girls. Beatrice blushed and looked up at him.

"No, I can live without it," she whispered back.

"But I want your happiness," Erik smiled.

"No, Erik. We have no money."

"I can buy it for you," Ruban said, not helping that he overheard their conversation.

"No, it is quite alright," Beatrice said, putting the shawl back. "However, thank you for offering."

"Do you have a place to stay?" Esperanza wondered, suddenly changing the subject.

"Not at the moment," Beatrice replied.

"Would you like to stay in our hacienda?" Esperanza smiled, taking Ruban's arm. "You could stay in our guest room."

"We would not want to be a burden," Erik replied.

"We would rather you stay with us than in an inn," Ruban replied. "Please. Let us help you." Beatrice looked at Erik and silently pleaded he say yes. He sighed as he looked at the couple in front of him then down at Beatrice.

"_This woman is going to be the death of me_," he thought. "_I can never say no to her._" Erik looked back at Ruban and Esperanza and nodded.

"If it will not be too much trouble," he replied in a vague yes.

"No trouble at all, señor," Ruban smiled as Esperanza let him go and hugged Beatrice fiercely. The Spanish beauty pulled away and held Beatrice at arms length.

"We are going to be great friends, I know it!" she grinned. Beatrice smiled back at her with wide eyes filled with surprise. The only girl that had ever been this cheerful was Meg Giry. Esperanza took Beatrice's hands and led her toward a carriage not too far away as the men picked up Erik and Beatrice's bags again and followed them.

"This is our carriage," Ruban explained, handing to of the bags to one of the servants standing next to the carriage. "We will take you to our hacienda now so that you can get settled, if that is alright."

"We will be here for several days," Beatrice replied. "I am sure that Erik and I will have plenty of time to visit the shops and things." Erik handed the bags he was carrying to the servant who piled them into the back of the carriage.

"Señors, señoras," the servant entreated them to get into the carriage. The four piled into the carriage with Ruban and Esperanza on one side and Erik and Beatrice on the other.

"Again, thank you," Beatrice smiled, taking Erik's hand and holding it in her lap. He gave her a sideways look of surprise, but said nothing.

"No need for thanks," Ruban smiled as he wrapped an arm around Esperanza who leaned on him. "It is our pleasure to help our new friends." Beatrice grinned at him saying that they were the couple's friends.

They had so far spent the rest of the day together and they had found out so much about each other, it was almost as though all four of them had been long time friends. Ruban was a wealthy Don who had many servants, a huge home, and a kind heart. Esperanza was a Spanish beauty who was just as attractive and kind as Ruban. They belonged with each other.

"When we have enough money, I am going to buy you a carriage made of jewels," Erik whispered in Beatrice's ear making her smile at him.

"A fine carriage like this one will be just fine, thank you, 'dear,'" she retorted with a smirk.

"But you would look so much better in a carriage made of _jewels_," Erik argued, snuggling the side of her head with his forehead.

"But people would be able to see what we were doing if we had one," she smiled meeting his forehead with hers, making a very obvious love scene in front of Ruban and Esperanza and securing their roles as 'husband and wife.'

"Is that so bad?" Erik smirked, loving the way he could actually flirt with her in front of other people.

"Erik," Beatrice blushed sincerely. "You shouldn't talk that way in front of our new friends!"

"_You_ brought it up," he murmured.

"That is enough," Beatrice said sternly. "We are making Ruban and Esperanza uncomfortable." Erik glanced over at the couple to see them nuzzling each others faces in their own love scene.

"They would beg to differ," he whispered and Beatrice frowned in confusion then glanced at their new friends and smiled.

"Apparently so," she agreed.

"Kiss me, mon cheri," Erik demanded softly, brushing his lips against hers, playfully.

"If I do not?"

"Then I will leave you."

"I doubt that," Beatrice giggled as she closed her eyes.

She let Erik press his lips against hers as he too closed his eyes. His tongue plunged into her mouth and she had to fight from letting out a moan of approval as he played with her tongue. Her mouth began to water at the taste of his mouth as he deepened the kiss then gathered her tongue fully and sucked on it. Her eyes shot open in surprise and she couldn't keep herself from letting out a small squeak in surprise at the sensation. She pulled away slowly, but his teeth held onto her tongue gently and as he let her mouth go she stared at him with a blush all over her face, neck and chest. He opened his eyes and grinned mischievously at her.

"Did you enjoy that, mon sucré?" he whispered. Beatrice licked her lips and took a deep breath as she tried to collect her thoughts.

"A bit too much," she admitted, making his grin widen.

"Erik," Ruban suddenly spoke up, and Beatrice and Erik looked at him. "We have an opera house here in Madrid. It is small, but popular. Would you be interested in visiting?"

"Of course," Erik replied, sitting up to let Beatrice snuggle up to his shoulder. "I would want nothing more than to see an opera house again."

"Excellent!" Ruban grinned then pressing a kiss to the side of Esperanza's head. "I shall see if I can persuade the managers to let me take you on a tour. I am sure they will not argue with me."

"Pardon my boldness, but how are you so sure?" Beatrice wondered. Ruban smirked and looked down at Esperanza who shared his smirk.

"Because _I_ am the patron," Ruban replied simply and Erik and Beatrice looked at him in disbelief.

"So, it is _your_ opera house?" Erik guessed.

"In a sense," Ruban replied, running his fingers through Esperanza's long, thick hair. "It was my idea to build it, and now I pay for its existence. Like you, Erik, I grew up with music around me and now enjoy everything that has to do with it."

"He and I met at an opera," Esperanza smiled up at Ruban and he smiled. "I will never forget the performance. _Romeo and Juliet_."

"Our seats were reserved next to each other," Ruban recalled. "She sat to my left, as if she had been there all my life."

"It was as though we were meant to be," Esperanza finished with a content smile. Ruban smiled back at her and moved a strand of hair from her face. Beatrice smiled at the couple and snuggled closer to Erik who wrapped his arm her shoulders.

"How long have you been married?" Beatrice wondered and they looked back at her.

"Three years," Ruban replied.

"Three _wonderful_ years," Esperanza corrected, snuggling up to his chest.

"You seem like you truly love each other," Beatrice observed.

"So do you," Esperanza smiled. Beatrice and Erik looked at each other in shock. They were good at their performance as husband and wife. A bit _too_ good.

"W-We are," Beatrice replied making the couple across from her frown in confusion.

"Have I said something wrong?" Esperanza asked, sitting up from Ruban. Beatrice and Erik looked at them and put on their best smiles to assure them.

"No, not at all!" Beatrice laughed. "We just didn't think we were so obvious." Esperanza sighed and relaxed on Ruban again. Beatrice hated lying to people, especially these new people who now considered her and Erik as friends.



"I am so glad that we ran into this couple today," Beatrice told Erik as they got ready for bed in their room at Ruban and Esperanza's home. "They are very nice."

"Yes," Erik admitted. "They seem agreeable."

"Agreeable?!" Beatrice laughed, turning to stare at his back as she stood on the other side of the bed. "They are _more_ than agreeable, Erik! They are superb!"

"As you wish, Beatrice," Erik smirked as he stripped off his shirt. "They are superb."

"Do not mock me, Erik!" Beatrice whirled all the way around to face him. Her eyes went wide when she realized he was shirtless and he merely stood there with a frown of confusion on his face over her stare.

"What is wrong?" he wondered, cocking his head a bit as a dog would when curious.

"N-Nothing," Beatrice lied, casting her eyes down. "I am just tired."

"_He is so unaware of how attractive he is_," she thought. "_How could Christine have left him?_"

"You should sleep well tonight," Erik assumed, slipping into the bed on his side. "It was a long day."

"Yes," Beatrice nodded and grabbed her nightgown off of the bed to change into it. She ran behind a dressing screen standing in a corner and hung the gown over the top as she began taking her clothes off.

"Are you sure you are alright, Beatrice?" Erik wondered, unmoving from the bed.

"I am fine, Erik," she lied again as she threw her clothes over the top of the screen. Of course, she wasn't fine. Her thoughts began to wander to Erik as she changed, and for a brief moment, she wished _he_ was undressing her. She caught her thought and shook her head fiercely.

"_You should not think such things, Beatrice!_" she scolded herself, silently. "_What would he think if he knew you were thinking of him that way?! He would surely think you wicked! Still, it was __he__ who kissed me first and __he__ who acts flirtatious with me. Perhaps he would not condemn my thinking of him that way?_"

Beatrice slipped on her black silk nightgown and fixed her hair so that it fell down her shoulders and arms. She had this strange urge to look nice for Erik, as a wife should look attractive for her husband. But they were not married and because of that fact, she found it strange that she would want to look pretty for him. Still, it would secure their role as being married even more so if she simply let herself feel that way, so she did not fight it.

She straightened her gown out of wrinkles and took a deep breath then slowly came out from behind the dressing screen. She swallowed when she saw Erik sitting up, waiting for her and staring at her with wide eyes filled with some emotion she couldn't identify. She walked toward the bed and Erik followed her as she glided across the room. Beatrice slipped into the bed and turned on her side with her back facing Erik.

"Good night, Erik," she mumbled and closed her eyes.

"G-Good night," Erik stuttered. She had looked so beautiful that he couldn't take his eyes from her when he saw her. Erik had seen Beatrice in hardly any clothes before accidentally, but seeing her show so much skin willingly had is mind reeling. Though the gown fell to the floor, it was sleeveless and his eyes had fallen to the rather low neckline as well as scanning over her creamy white slender arms.

Erik stared at her back for a moment, wondering why she was acting so strangely then shrugged and moved closer to her. He lay down, wrapping his arm around her stomach and burying his face in her hair.

"Erik?" she said in a small voice.

"Yes?"

"W-What are you doing?" Erik lifted his head and frowned down at her in confusion.

"I am lying with you," he replied. "As a husband would with his wife. I thought you were no longer bothered by this."

"I---I was not, but…" Beatrice couldn't think with Erik this close to her. Did he know that just his presence made her feel like a giddy school girl? Obviously not if he continued trying to be close to her. Or perhaps he did and he was merely messing with her head.

"But what?" Erik prompted, shifting to stare at her from above. She turned onto her back to look up at him and he studied her face intently.

"It is not necessary when we are alone to act as husband and wife," she murmured. Erik smirked, surprising her and they sat up. "Why do you smile?" she demanded.

"Because you are blushing again," Erik murmured, moving his face closer to hers. "You are beautiful when you blush." He touched his lips to hers ever so softly as he ran his index finger up her arm, leaving goose-bumps on her skin in its wake.

"Erik…" she breathed as her eyes became heavy. "Please. Stop this."

"Why?" Erik wondered but he did not move away from her.

"It is not right," she replied. "You should not taunt me."

"I thought you liked to be taunted."

"Erik, please. Stop teasing me."

"As you wish."

Erik pressed his lips gently to Beatrice's in a tender kiss and she could not help but start to kiss him back. She slowly wrapped her arms around his neck and his arms wrapped around her to pull her closer as she deepened the kiss. Her tongue slowly made its way into his mouth making him groan in approval. They fell back onto the bed still engaged in their lip-lock. Erik shifted so that he was fully above her, pressing every inch of his body against hers. He began sucking on her tongue and she groaned for more as she pulled him closer. Erik broke the kiss slowly and began trailing tender kisses down her neck and shoulder.

"Erik…" she breathed again, running her fingers through his hair. She suddenly realized what she was about to happen and her eyes shot open as she pushed him away. "No! Erik, stop!" she pleaded in a harsh whisper and pushed him away by the shoulders. He pushed up with his arms and stared down at her in confusion.

"Beatrice?" he prompted.

"We cannot do this, Erik," she breathed. "It would not be right." Erik looked down at her, truly not knowing what she meant. Beatrice saw this in his eyes and sat up, taking him with her. "If we were to lie together, it would damage our relationship. It would not be right."

Erik stared at her in disbelief. He suddenly realized what had almost happened and felt guilty. He had promised himself that he would not take advantage of her, but he couldn't help it. Beatrice was so beautiful, and he couldn't help wanting to hold her and kiss her. He just wanted her close to him he didn't want to force himself on her.

"Erik?" Beatrice called in a worried tone.

"I am sorry, Beatrice," he replied. "I did not mean to frighten you." He turned away from her and lay on his side, his back facing her. "Get some sleep."

"Erik---"

"I am not mad, Beatrice," Erik interrupted, knowing that was probably what she was worried about.

"I know what it is you want, Erik," she replied, moving toward him. "I can give you what you want to an extent."

"Beatrice, I will not force you---"

"I wish to give you what you want. You wish to be close to me, yes?" Erik turned to her with wide eyes. Had she read is mind?! "I can see it, Erik. The truth is I wish to be close to you as well. As close as you will allow." She pushed him gently onto his back and laid her head on his chest. What could he say? She wanted what he wanted, and he would not keep from her what she wanted if he was the only one who could give it to her. Erik wrapped his arms around her and smiled when she snuggled her cheek to his chest.

"I will not ask anything of you---"

"Erik, please," Beatrice interrupted. "Just hold me. Keep me from nightmares tonight." Erik sighed and pulled her a bit closer.

"I will do what I can, mon ange," he whispered. Beatrice felt her heart skip a beat.

"_He called me his angel_," she thought with excitement. "_Perhaps he is beginning to forget her._" She raised her head slightly to look up at him. He was already asleep and she smiled at him. She moved a small piece of hair that fell over the edge of his mask then gently pulled his mask off, setting it on the nightstand next to the bed.

"You do not need that when you sleep," she whispered. "I think you handsome no matter what you look like." She placed her hand on his damaged cheek and caressed it lightly.

"_I know now, Erik. I __do__ love you and I will follow you wherever you go. I will not let you be hurt anymore._"


	13. A Day with the Castillos

_**Chapter 13: A Day with the Castillos**_

"Welcome, Señor LaRouche, to El Ópera Pequeño Grandioso," Ruban grinned as he and Erik stood in front of a two story building with a staircase leading to the entrance and sprinkled with stone gargoyles on its roof and awnings.

"What does its name mean?" Erik wondered as they walked up the stairs.

"The Little Grand Opera," Ruban smiled.

"Fitting," Erik nodded.

"Let the tour begin," Ruban grinned. "Where shall we begin?"

"Underground," Erik muttered, not really wanting to be heard but needing to speak his mind.

"You want to start with the foundation?" Ruban wondered, frowning in confusion as they entered the lobby. Erik shot a wide eyed look of panic at his new friend.

"No, of course not," he lied. "I would like to see the auditorium."

"Very well," Ruban nodded, and the two men walked into a large hall with another staircase. The banisters were oak and there were Spanish decorations everywhere. The floor was wood as well and from the ceiling there hung a large but modest chandelier.

"Very nicely done, Ruban," Erik complimented. "Elegant yet modest."

"Thank you," Ruban beamed with pride. "I picked all the décor myself, with Esperanza's help, of course. I cannot do anything without her."

"No man _I_ know would admit that freely," Erik scoffed as the two men walked down a hall.

"I admit it freely because it is true," Ruban replied. "Would you not say the same of _your_ wife because you are so in love with her?" Erik hesitated before smiling charmingly.

"Of course. I hadn't thought of that."

Indeed, he hadn't thought of Beatrice in a while. He had tried to keep her off of his mind when he got up that morning to take this tour of Ruban's opera house. The reason for that was because when he woke up that morning, Beatrice had had every inch of her length pressed against him with her face buried against his neck, with one hand on his abdomen, her leg over his legs, and _his_ arms around her…one hand on her rear and the other on her waist. Erik could not understand how two people sleeping in the same bed could end up in such bizarre positions without waking each other up!

"Erik?" Ruban called, breaking into Erik's thoughts of Beatrice. "This way." Erik looked up from the floor to see that he was drifting away from Ruban while they walked. He had been so consumed in his thoughts that he hadn't been paying attention to where Ruban was taking him, and now he found himself in a dark area that he felt rather comfortable in.

"I assume we are backstage?" Erik wondered.

"No," Ruban replied. "We are _on_ the stage. Would you like to see what our stars see?" Erik nodded in the dim light coming from the other side of the curtain they stood next to. Ruban snapped his fingers and the curtain parted to either side within seconds. Erik looked out into the auditorium with wide eyes. It was so huge! There had to be at least thousands of seats. For just a brief moment, he couldn't help but have memories of what Christine might have seen from the stage, and then at glancing at the boxes on the second level felt his fists clench.

"_He sat in my box purposely, I'm sure_," he couldn't help but think of Raoul de Chagny. If he had not sat in box five when he was told it was Erik's box, none of this would have happened, Erik wouldn't be here.

"Erik? Are you alright?" Ruban wondered, frowning at the masked man. Erik looked at Ruban and the young man took an involuntary step back. Erik's anger must have been showing on his face because Ruban looked almost terrified. Erik immediately tried to soften the look on his face and straightened, his fists still clenched, but relaxing slightly.

"I am fine, Ruban," Erik lied, again. "I just had a thought." Ruban looked the man over quickly and hesitantly nodded, standing closer to the other man. "It is lovely, Ruban. Your taste is unmatched."

"You flatter me quite too much, Señor LaRouche," Ruban couldn't help but smile.

"I can assure you, you will only receive honestly from me," Erik replied, relieved that Ruban was not afraid.

"Might I ask why you seem so tense this morning, Erik?" Ruban asked as they began walking the length of the stage. "Is everything alright with Beatrice and yourself?"

"Everything is fine," Erik replied a bit too quickly.

Ruban glanced at him in examination, and guessed to what might have happened.

"Forgive my boldness, but is Beatrice not so giving when nights falls?" the Spanish noble wondered tactfully.

Erik shot a wide eyed glance at his new friend in disbelief, stopping in his tracks. He knew exactly what the other man was implying, but the thought had never crossed his mind of Beatrice giving herself to him! How could she even _want_ to when Erik was the way he was?

"N-No!" Erik managed. "It is not that at all! She is rather…giving," he lied then looked down at the floor. "It is just this place," he murmured. "It brings back memories of France. That is all." Ruban frowned in curiosity and doubt. That could not be what had this man upset and tense, it was too easy. Erik seemed like a complicated man, and Ruban would expect nothing less than a complicated answer from the masked man.

"You are home-sick?" Ruban wondered, not really thinking that was the reason for Erik's behavior.

"Not so much home-sick as nostalgic," Erik corrected. "I do not believe we will be going back any time soon."

"Why is that?"

"Many things have happened that both she and I wish to forget," Erik replied then looked the Ruban in the eye. "Please, let us just leave it at that." Ruban frowned slightly, but nodded in agreement at his new friend's request. He would not pry when it was none of his business.

Erik had no clue why he had even shared that much information with this man. It was true, to a point, but he hadn't had to tell him even that much. He could have just said he didn't wish to talk about it and leave it at that, but for whatever reason, he felt comfortable with this Spanish noble. Perhaps it had something to do with his contribution to the arts? In this young man, Erik saw a bit of himself, his love of the arts and his eye for beauty, excluding the fact that this man would rather be in light, whereas Erik would prefer darkness. Erik felt he could trust Ruban, but he would not trust him so quickly.

"Shall we continue the tour?" Ruban wondered, breaking the silence that had overcome the two men. Erik nodded and followed Ruban as he led him off the stage and into the seats.



"I must confess, Esperanza, I have never seen so many venders!" Beatrice smiled as the two women walked down the dirt road and past carts of trinkets and knick-knacks.

"This is their day for selling," Esperanza explained as she pulled her shawl a bit tighter around her arms. "You see one or two most of the time, but on Saturdays they _all_ come out." She slid her arm inside Beatrice's arm and grinned at the red-head. "I am so glad I have someone to share this with! Usually I come ere by myself while Ruban sees to things at the opera house."

"Well, I am glad to be of service," Beatrice smiled and the two giggled.

"Please," Esperanza smiled. "Feel free to purchase anything you like! I will buy it for you! Ruban gave me enough money to buy whatever we want!"

"Oh, no!" Beatrice protested. "I could not do that!"

"I insist!" Esperanza argued. "If you do not let me buy you something, I will be very offended." Beatrice gave a mock smile at the Spanish beauty, knowing she didn't mean that, but fearing she might be offended in some way.

"The only thing I would like from you is your company," Beatrice smiled, honestly. "I can ask Erik to buy something for me later. He can never refuse me." The girls giggled again, and something caught Beatrice's eye suddenly from the left. She whipped her head around to see a cart nearly dripping with jewelry, and one thing in particular caught the young woman's eye. She nearly dragged Esperanza toward the cart in her trance, but the Spanish girl merely followed.

"What is it, Beatrice?" Esperanza wondered.

"This ring," Beatrice replied, still hypnotized. "It is so beautiful." She lifted her hand toward a diamond ring on a silver band, the diamond set between two rubies. Esperanza watched in growing excitement as her new friend placed the ring on her left ring finger were an engagement ring should have been already. Noticing that Beatrice's hand had been bare before she placed the ring on her finger, she frowned in wonder and looked up at Beatrice.

"Beatrice?" she called as the red-head still stared at the ring on her finger. "Why do you not have a wedding ring?" This question seemed to snap Beatrice from her trance and she hastily took the ring off and put it back where she had found it.

"I suppose Erik never got around to getting one for me," Beatrice lied. "The wedding day arrived quickly after he proposed." She hated lying to people, she never was good at it, but she couldn't tell anyone the truth. Even in this foreign country with this obviously trustworthy girl, she couldn't, because she loved Erik too much to go against what he had told her, and that was to not tell anyone who they truly were, and what they were truly doing in Spain.

"That is not right, Beatrice!" Esperanza nearly screeched, jerking Beatrice from her thoughts. "You should have a wedding ring! I am buying this ring for you!"

"No!" Beatrice protested. "If I am to have a ring, it should be from Erik, do you not think so?" The Spanish woman looked at Beatrice in a bit of suspicion, but said nothing and instead nodded.

"You are right," she smiled, leading Beatrice away from the cart. "Your wedding ring should come from your husband. It would be scandalous if you received it from another woman!" The two women laughed and Beatrice let out a small sigh of relief. That had been too close. She would have to have a talk with Erik about the ring dilemma. She would not think about it. For now, she would enjoy shopping with her friend, even if _she_ was not the one doing e shopping.

Esperanza smiled at her own thoughts. She would have to tell Erik what Beatrice had done when she saw that ring, and perhaps that would tell him that _that_ was the one she wanted. She would also have to have a talk with Ruban about getting these two settled here. If Erik and Beatrice were to stay here for some time then they would need a place of their own, and Esperanza knew they would not like staying in that guest room for the length of their honeymoon. She would work something out later.

"Beatrice?"

"Yes?"

"Ruban and I host a horse show this time every year. There are many horses for sale there, and for mere show and I was wondering if you and Erik might wish to join us?"

Beatrice looked at Esperanza and her golden eyes lit up.

"I would _love_ to go!" Beatrice grinned. "I shall speak to Erik and ask if we can go. I am sure he would not refuse!"

"You love horses as much as I do, I see," Esperanza couldn't help but notice.

"More than anything, save music," Beatrice confirmed. "They are so graceful and powerful. It always amazes me how their skinny legs can carry their huge bodies!" The girls laughed again. "Do you own many horses?"

"Not at the moment, but I wish Ruban would buy one for me. Do you ride?"

"I have, once or twice, but I could never get anything right!"

"Does Erik ride?"

"I would think so. He has never spoken of it."

"Well, if he does, perhaps he could teach you properly."

Beatrice could only nod, her thoughts beginning to wander to Erik. Yes, he _could_ teach her to ride a horse, if he himself knew and she was sure if they ever got enough money that he would even _buy_ her a horse if she wanted. No, she would never ask that of him. But she would like him to teach her to ride, because it would be a step for him if he could teach her something.

"Beatrice?" Esperanza called meekly, breaking through Beatrice's thoughts. "Are you alright?"

"Yes," Beatrice smiled warmly. "I was just thinking."

"About Erik?" Esperanza guessed with a smirk. Beatrice looked at her new friend with a bit of surprise. "I can tell when you are thinking of him by the look in your eyes, Beatrice. You look the same way I do when I think of Ruban."

"And how is that, pray-tell?" Beatrice wondered, smirking back at the Spanish beauty.

"Starry-eyed and like your mind is on some far away cloud with him."

"That is very poetic, Esperanza," Beatrice giggled. "But I doubt that is how I look when I think of Erik."

"Why wouldn't you wish to look that way when you are thinking of your husband?"

"It is not that I do not _wish_ to look that way, it is that I do not _think_ I look that way."

"Well, you do, Beatrice, but do not be ashamed of it. He is your husband, and it is quite alright to look that way when thinking of your husband."

"You are full of advice, are you not?" Beatrice joked with a sweet smile.

"Ruban has said the same thing!" Esperanza grinned and the two girls laughed.



_A few hours later..._

Beatrice sat on the sofa in the guest room of the Castillo's home. She rang her hands as she waited for Erik to come back from his tour of Ruban's opera house. They had never been apart since they met again in France, and she was worried something might set off his temper, or something would happen. It wasn't that she didn't trust Erik, but she worried all the same.

"Beatrice, stop pulling at your fingers so! They will become thinner than they already are!" Esperanza laughed as she came to sit next to the red-head.

"I cannot help it!" Beatrice replied.

"You have not been away from Erik long after you were married, have you?" Esperanza smiled, taking Beatrice's hands in hers to keep her still.

"No," Beatrice replied hesitantly. "I do not like being apart from him." Esperanza nodded in understanding and her face suddenly lit up.

"I have an idea!" she smiled. Esperanza dragged Beatrice from the sofa and toward the wardrobe on the other side of room. She threw the doors open and sifted through some of the dresses that hung inside with Beatrice staring at her in curiosity and slight worry. What was this Spanish beauty thinking now? Esperanza emerged from the wardrobe with a maroon taffeta gown with lace around the "U" shaped collar and around the elbow length sleeves.

"Esperanza, what are you suggesting?" Beatrice wondered.

"This gown would look stunning on you!" Esperanza smiled and Beatrice's eyes went wide in surprise.

"N-No!" Beatrice cried, backing away and shaking her head. "I cannot do that! Not one of your gowns!"

"I insist, Beatrice!" Esperanza smiled, taking her wrist and pulling her toward the dressing screen. "Do you not wish to look beautiful for your husband?!"

"Well, yes, but---"

"I do not wish to hear another word! You will wear this dress, and I will fix your hair, and you will look stunning for Erik when he returns! A wife should always look lovely for her husband."



"I envy you, Ruban," Erik said sincerely as they walked to the entrance of the hacienda.

"Why is that, Erik?" Ruban wondered with a frown.

"I envy your life. You have a beautiful wife, and a beautiful home, and an opera house."

"You have a beautiful wife, Erik," Ruban reminded him.

"Yes," Erik nodded. "That is true." He couldn't help the small smile that crept across his lips at the thought of Beatrice, his new little angel that had, by some twist of fate, come into his life again. He really did like the fact that she was with him. He had someone to help him, who understood him, and didn't fear him.

One of Ruban's servants opened the door to the home and the two men walked in. The door shut behind them and they both immediately saw Esperanza run from around a corner with open arms toward Ruban. She was dressed in a sky blue silk gown that flowed behind her and had a "U" shaped neckline with white lace lining it and the elbow length sleeves. Her ebony hair was pulled back away from her face and hung loose down her back.

"Mi querido!" she smiled and ran into Ruban's arms. He laughed and wrapped his arms around her waist, lifting her off the floor and spinning her around. "I missed you."

"And I you," Ruban replied then kissed her lips gently.

"Where is Beatrice?" Erik wondered as Ruban set his wife down on her feet again. Esperanza looked at him and smiled mischievously.

"Why do you not call her?" she retorted and Ruban looked at her in disbelief.

"Esperanza!" he scolded.

"Call for her, Erik," Esperanza repeated and Erik frowned in confusion but shrugged and decided to trust the Spanish beauty.

"Beatrice?" Erik called and Esperanza turned in her husband's arms to lean into his body to be comfortable as she watched the scene unfold.

The three heard footsteps coming from were Esperanza had entered and the sight that followed nearly floored Erik. Beatrice emerged from around the corner slowly, her hands folded in front of her and her eyes cast down. She was wearing a floor length maroon gown of taffeta that had a scandalously low "U" neckline with black lace around its edge which also lined the elbow length sleeves. Her fiery red hair was pinned up in a bun with a few small curls hanging on her forehead just above her eyebrows and one tight curl that hung behind her ear and rested on the exposed skin of her neck.

Erik stood and stared at her for a moment as she brought herself to a stop a few steps away from him, her eyes still cast down, and he wondered how she had outdone herself when it came to her natural beauty. He watched the rise and fall of her chest as she rapidly breathed and wondered why she seemed to be panicking.

"_Go to her, Erik!_" his thoughts screamed at him when he did nothing. "_Do not merely stand here! She is obviously embarrassed and frightened! Go to her!_" Erik stepped toward Beatrice but she did not move as he came closer. He stopped right in front of her and when she still did not move, he lifted a hand and tugged her chin up to meet his gaze with hers gently. He noticed there was a slight sparkle in her eyes below the embarrassment and fright, a sparkle he hadn't seen enough of. He also noticed that her skin looked a bit paler, but the freckles that sprinkled her cheeks and nose still held their color and her naturally rosy lips were a bit more red than usual.

"Does she not look attractive, Erik?" Esperanza wondered, not moving from Ruban's arms as he still held her. Erik said nothing as his hand that held her chin ran a finger along her jaw and down the side of her neck softly. His eyes bore into hers as she shivered slightly and his hand trailed down her arm then gripped her hand and slowly brought it between them.

"You look ravishing," he whispered and left a gentle kiss on her hand as she studied his face and he stared into her eyes.

"We will check on dinner," Ruban smiled as he led Esperanza by the hand out of the room and toward the kitchen.

"This was Esperanza's idea," Beatrice whispered as she saw the young couple leave the room. "I wanted nothing to do with this."

"You look paler," Erik noticed, studying her and lowering her hand.

"She insisted I wear powder," Beatrice replied.

"Your lips?"

"Red lip paint at her request as well."

"The dress?"

"Hers."

"The sparkle in your eye?" Erik smirked. Beatrice opened her mouth to reply, but stopped and looked at him in surprise. He was flirting?! She was standing in front of him looking completely ridiculous and he was flirting?! He was mocking her!

"Erik, I will not be made fun of," Beatrice warned sternly. "This was Esperanza's idea, as I said. She seems to think that a wife should look attractive for her husband at all times."

"A wife _should_," Erik replied, taking both of her hands and raising them between the two of them. "You seem to be growing more beautiful every day, Beatrice." She stared at him in disbelief as he merely looked at her. "What is it that is making you glow like a diamond in the rough?"

Beatrice was at a loss for words. Sincerity dripped from his words and there was something in his eyes that she couldn't identify. He had that look whenever he looked at her since they arrived in Spain, and it was truly beginning to annoy her because she could not figure out what it was.

"What are you thinking, mon ange?" he murmured, breaking through her thoughts as he began playing with the curl of hair that lay on her neck.

"I am thinking that we should find a place of our own so that we do not burden these fine people any longer," she lied.

"We will find a home here, charmant," he whispered. "For now, allow me to look at you?"

"Erik---" Beatrice's protest was cut short when Erik placed one of his fingers gently on her lips. She felt a chill of excitement run up her spine but fought the shiver that wanted to show him that she loved his touch.

"You never answered my question, cheri," he whispered, inching toward her face. "What has caused such a bright sparkle in your eye?" Beatrice smiled sweetly as his hand lowered and she slowly wrapped her arms around his neck as his wrapped around her waist.

"You truly wish to know what has caused it?" Beatrice wondered as they pulled each other closer. Erik nodded as he gave her an Eskimo kiss with a smile crossing is lips. Beatrice breathed in deeply, hoping that her answer would not frighten him.

"You," she whispered. She watched as Erik's eyes widened and filled with disbelief as he stared at her.

"Because of _me_?" he breathed. Beatrice merely nodded, keeping up her sweet smile as she began playing with a bit of his hair. "What have _I_ done?"

"What have you _not_ done, Erik?" she corrected. "You saved Krystal's life, and you saved _me_ from Daniel."

"Beatrice---"

"Erik, I do not wish to hear that you have done nothing," she interrupted. "You have brought me to Spain with you. If that has not done _everything_ for me then I do not know what has." Erik studied her face intently as she looked him in the eyes, not wanting him to doubt her words. He saw the truth in her eyes and a small smile crept across his lips.

"If you think I have done everything for you then I suppose I do not have to give you the gift I bought for you today," Erik retorted making Beatrice's eyes light up.

"You did not have to get it for me anyway," she smiled, gliding her hands down to rest on his chest.

"I know," he whispered, unwrapping his arms from her waist and slipping a hand into his pocket. "But I could not resist." He used one arm to spin her around, making her laugh as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and kissed the side of her head.

"Erik!" she laughed. "What are you doing?!"

"Giving you your present," he explained. He pulled from his pocket a silver necklace with silver crescents laid with diamonds making up most of it, the crescents connected by diamond flowers and a diamond flower dangling in the center.

"Close your eyes," he whispered in her ear, and she did as she did as she was told. Erik pulled the necklace apart and placed it on her neck, running it gently across her skin as he did, purposely teasing her. She gasped at the cold metal on her skin and her eyes shot open as he latched the necklace behind her then ran his hands over her shoulders. She looked down in disbelief at the necklace as she turned to face Erik.

"This had to have cost you a fortune!" she breathed, caressing the necklace lightly.

"Ruban insisted I buy something for you," Erik explained. "How could I refuse?" The two looked up as Ruban and Esperanza stepped back into the room.

"Dinner is served," Ruban smiled, pulling Esperanza closer by her waist making her smile.


	14. Secrets, Secrets and More Secrets

_**Chapter 14: Secrets, Secrets, and More Secrets**_

Erik, Beatrice, Ruban and Esperanza all sat at a not too small, not too large table in the Castillo dining room enjoying their dinner. Erik and Beatrice sat together on one side with Ruban and Esperanza sitting directly in front of them on the other side. The main course for the night was a hearty vegetable soup with every kind of vegetable you could possibly imagine. The Castillo's, as Erik and Beatrice had found out, were vegetarians…they ate nothing that had to be slaughtered. Because of Esperanza's love of animals, she hated even thinking that anyone could _eat_ something as adorable as a rabbit for example.

The couple had been talking over dinner, sharing stories and laughing at jokes, all at the table, that is, except for Erik. Being below ground for most of his life, he had no stories to tell and while Beatrice and the other couple spoke of things they had done, he stayed quiet for most of their conversations, giving his opinion very rarely. Even now, he sat picking at a zucchini slice as it floated in the vegetable broth in his bowl as Beatrice carried on a conversation about horses. He didn't mind sitting and listening to the other three chatter because it had been beneficial for him. He was learning more about Beatrice and is new friends, but learning more about his "wife" was more interesting.

For example, he learned that she loved horses, something he hadn't even suspected from her. He made a silent promise to her that e would buy her a horse as soon as he had money to do so. He could see her on a snow white mare, looking elegant as her gown flowed behind her, or perhaps a buckskinned mare, or maybe---

"Erik?" Beatrice called timidly, jolting Erik from his thoughts and he looked up at her in surprise.

"Yes?"

"I asked if it would be alright if we could go the horse show that Ruban and Esperanza are hosting in a few days," she said a bit impatiently. Was that what they had been talking about? Erik had heard nothing of the conversation that had been going on as he lost himself in his thoughts. He cleared his throat and straightened in his chair, trying to compose himself.

"I suppose it would not take away from our plans," he replied, trying to make it seem like they were far too busy to deviate from whatever plans they might have for their "honeymoon."

"What plans?" Beatrice muttered then shoved a piece of carrot into her mouth as Erik shot a glare at her.

"Wonderful!" Esperanza cheered with the widest smile. "I have just the horse for you, Beatrice!"

"Really, you need not buy a horse for me!" Beatrice protested, wiping her mouth quickly. "I can do without a horse!"

"You will have enough money to buy your own if you wish," Ruban spoke up, and Erik and Beatrice looked at him, one frowning in confusion and one with wide eyes filled with surprise.

"What do you mean, Ruban?" Erik wondered, he being the one with the frown across his brow.

"Esperanza and I were just talking over what we wished to do with one our villas here in Madrid. It is quant, but we have no use for it so much anymore. We stay here, mostly. We thought since you two need a place to stay, and we have no use for it, as I said, you might wish to stay there. There will be no payments, and _we_ will give you enough money to support yourselves with extra to spend on luxuries."

"Please say yes!" Esperanza pleaded after her husband finished. "It is not even a mile away from here! We will be neighbors!"

Beatrice stared at the couple then looked at Erik who in turn looked at her. They studied each other, both not knowing what to do and searching for the answer in the others eyes. These fine people were giving them one of their homes that they apparently didn't want anymore. Why were they doing this? Erik and Beatrice had only just met them! It seemed that these people were loving, giving and trusting people who would not think twice to help others even without knowing much about them. On the one hand, it would benefit Erik and Beatrice if they had a place of their own at the moment, but how did the Castillos know that these two weren't mass murders?! After all, if they knew Erik's past, I'm sure they would think twice before even _helping_ them.

"Erik?" Beatrice breathed, prompting _him_ to make the decision. His eyes glowed in terror at her and he looked at the Castillos with the same look. How could they refuse their kindness? But how could he say yes when he and Beatrice had done nothing for them in return?! This was too much for the poor masked man! He had no idea what to do! Was this typical of people that they would be so kind when all his life he had been shown nothing but _un_kindness?!

"You need not repay us, Erik," Ruban assured him, seemingly reading his mind. "Your company will be more than enough payment. You see, Esperanza and I hardly have any couples to spend time with. We would like to have friends who understand what married life is like."

Oh, what Erik would have done to simply stand and walk from the room to let Beatrice deal with this situation. He could not stand hearing this man say that Erik and Beatrice were married, because it was not true, and he hated lying to the poor couple like this. He looked at Beatrice again and she looked at him in turn. She didn't look panicked anymore. She looked like she knew exactly what to do, and Erik wanted to know what she was thinking. She suddenly turned to the couple with a sweet smile.

"I think this is a bit for Erik to take in," she murmured, taking his hand and squeezing it gently to assure him. "I think, perhaps, he and I should talk about this---"

"Beatrice," Erik interrupted sternly, making her look at him in surprise. "Do not speak for me. I am not a child."

"No, my dear, you certainly are _not_," Beatrice smirked, much to his surprise.

"We shall talk about this tonight," he nodded, hiding his surprise at her flirtatious comment.

"Of course, dearest," she smiled sweetly and turned back to her soup. Erik turned to the Castillos, nodding, and in turn they both nodded, having heard his resolve and turned back to their own dinner. Erik leaned closer to Beatrice's ear as she chewed happily on a piece of potato.

"Yes," he whispered, hissing the last letter to purposely tease her. "Tonight we will have a talk about how you can phrase your words a bit more carefully." Beatrice could not help the small shiver that raked her body. Erik was so close, and his breath was so warm as it fanned her neck when he spoke. Did he know what he did to her?

The four finished their dinner, and changed the subject several different times as the servants cleaned the table. Ruban invited Erik to his study for a drink, and Esperanza pulled Beatrice into the parlor. The two women sat down on the sofa and the Spanish beauty moved closer to the red-head, taking her hands.

"What do _you_ think, Beatrice?" Esperanza whispered.

"What do you mean?" Beatrice wondered with a frown.

"I want to know what _you_ think of accepting our offer!"

"Oh, Esperanza," Beatrice laughed. "I promise you will have your answer tomorrow at noon." Esperanza looked at her new friend with a comical glare that made Beatrice giggle. Esperanza suddenly straightened and smiled, making Beatrice a bit nervous.

"I must speak to your husband," Esperanza whispered, and in one graceful movement, she rose from the sofa and flew toward Ruban's study.

"Esperanza!" Beatrice called, panicking. "Wait! What are you going to say?!"

"I must ask him something," Esperanza called back still walking toward the study. She opened the door and the sight of the two men standing in front of the fire greeted the two women.

"Esperanza," Ruban smiled as the women walked in. "Could not do without me for a few moments, mi amor?"

"Actually, mi querido, I must talk to Erik for a moment," she smiled, taking her husbands hand as he looked at her in surprise.

"Is that so?" Ruban wondered. Erik looked at Beatrice with more confusion than he would admit and she merely shrugged, shaking her head slightly.

"Erik, would you mind talking with me in the parlor?" Esperanza wondered, walking toward him. Before he could even answer the woman grabbed his wrist and dragged him toward the parlor, leaving Beatrice and Ruban in his study a bit stunned.

"Esperanza has seemed to take a quick liking to the both of you," Ruban smiled, sipping at his drink. Beatrice looked at him in surprise then stepped toward him a bit.

"_You_ have not taken a liking to us?" she wondered, making him give a slight chuckle.

"Of course I have," he smiled, turning to lean on the shelf above the fireplace. "You are both fine people."

"As are you and Esperanza," she smiled sweetly. "I am sure that Erik will accept your offer. You are very generous." Ruban looked at her through slightly narrowed eyes in evaluation of her.

"I cannot help but sense that there is something else you wish to tell me, Beatrice," he finally said, shifting his arm on the shelf. Beatrice looked at him in surprise and he could see through her golden orbs that his suspicion was correct. "Would you like to tell me?"

"Ruban," she breathed. "You have no idea how much I wish to tell you!" Beatrice ran closer to him taking his hand and looking him in the eyes. "I am not a natural liar! I do not like lying! I am an _honest_ girl! But…" She lost herself in her sudden thoughts of Erik, and Ruban searched her face for the rest of her explanation.

"Does it have something to do with Erik?" Ruban guessed, knowing that _that_ would be the only reason she would lie. Beatrice sighed and nodded then let him go and walked to the other end of the fireplace.

"I wish I could tell the both of you everything," she whispered. "But Erik---"

"Do not, Beatrice," he interrupted. She turned to face him with wide eyes, and he merely shook his head. "I do not have to know."

"Oh, Ruban!" she cried, running into his arms, taking him aback. "I so wish that everyone was as understanding as you!" Ruban smiled patting the back of her head gently.

"You are welcome, mi amigo," he laughed.



"Esperanza, might I ask why are seeking my company?" Erik wondered as she closed the door of the parlor.

"There is something of great importance that I must speak to you about, Erik," she replied, leading him to the sofa to sit. "It is about something that Beatrice saw today." Erik looked back at the woman in worry.

"What has happened?" he asked quickly. More importantly, why did she not tell him herself?

"It is nothing that you need worried about, Erik!" Esperanza laughed, and Erik couldn't help his sigh of relief. "Let me explain. You see, we were shopping today and she saw something she wanted. A ring to be exact. I could tell she wanted it because as soon as she saw it, it was as thought she was in a trance. I noticed that she did not have a wedding ring as of yet, and so I proposed to by it for her. She said no and also said that if she were to have a wedding ring, it should come from her husband. I agree with her, which is why, before we were done shopping, I went back to the vender, pointed out the ring and told him to hold it under my name so that _you_ might go and pick it up next week."

"_Me?!_" Erik exclaimed, setting his drink down on the table in front of the sofa.

"Yes, _you_," she giggled. "All you need do is go to the vender and tell him that there is a ring on hold under Esperanza Castillo. He will give you the ring, you will pay for it, and you give it to Beatrice."

"Esperanza," Erik sighed. "I appreciate your help, but please, you have done enough for us already. Beatrice has gone this far without a ring, and I am sure she can go without one a little while longer."

"Very well," she shrugged and stood to walk toward the door. "But do not be surprised if anyone assumes she is unattached and go after her. She is a beautiful woman, and I am sure that it will not be long before the single men here see that her hand is bare." She turned to the door with a smirk of triumph, having seen the shock on Erik's face, and walked out of the room to rejoin her husband and Beatrice.

Had he heard that right? Single men would see that she was beautiful, and that she wore no ring and they would be after her?! For whatever reason, Erik did not like the thought of another man holding her, touching her, or even being _near_ her without him being there. He felt like this partially because he wanted to protect her, but the other part of it, he wasn't quite sure.

Erik sighed and sat back on the sofa. Why was this couple helping them with every single little thing? What had Erik and Beatrice done for them?! What _could_ they do for them now that the couple had given them a place to stay and money to spend? Ruban had said that their company would do, but that was not enough for a house, money and now a ring!

Oh, God, the ring! He had completely forgot to give her one before they left France, and he had thought that he would not have to worry about it unless she said something. Well, she hadn't said anything to him, but he heard Esperanza when she told him how his new little angel had reacted to the sight of a ring she had wanted. He could easily imagine Beatrice going into a trance over jewelry, it seemed to suit her. How could he refuse to buy something for her that she truly wanted? He couldn't. He would go to the vender next week and see this ring that Beatrice had chosen for herself. He would put it on her finger himself, and she would _never_ take it off.

"I must thank Esperanza for the information," he reminded himself as he stood to walk back to Ruban's study.



"Erik, I believe we should take the offer," Beatrice stated as she stood on one side of the bed in the nightgown that Erik loved so much.

"I believe we should try to get some sleep," Erik muttered as he slipped into the bed on the other side.

"Erik! We must make a decision!" she said jumping into the bed with him on her knees. Erik smiled up at her as she pouted. She sometimes acted like a small child as he noticed a long time ago, but he found it adorable when she did, even if sometimes she was throwing a tantrum.

"I know we must, mon cheri, but can it not wait until the morning?" he wondered, tired from his day of surprises.

"No! We must make the decision now! We cannot waste time in sleeping when we should be thinking!" Beatrice shuffled on her knees toward him and pushed and pulled at his shoulder when he rolled onto his side to try to sleep. He sighed and sat up to look at her, making her stop.

"Let me tell you something, my dear," he began. "_Sleeping_ is not a waste of time. Using energy on an already decided matter, _that_ is wasting time, not to mention energy. Now go to sleep." Beatrice stared at him in confusion as he turned onto his side again, pulling the covers up to his waist.

"You have already decided what we will do?" she wondered in a small voice.

"Yes." He replied.

"And what is your decision, my 'husband'?"

"My decision is that we accept the offer," he whispered. He heard Beatrice gasp and suddenly found himself on his back with her in his arms before he could even move himself. Beatrice snuggled her cheek to his chest as she pressed every inch of the length of her body against his and wrapped her arm around his waist.

"You cannot know how happy this makes me, Erik," she whispered and he slowly wrapped his arms around her and pulled her a bit closer.

"_And __you__ cannot know how happy __you__ make __me__, Beatrice_," he thought, not willing to say such a thing out loud. After all, she may act as if she was in love with him, but he knew it to be far from the truth. What beauty could ever love a beast?

If only Erik knew what was going through Beatrice's mind as she lay there in his arms, he would be dancing with joy. What was she doing?! She knew he didn't love her, that he was still in deep love with Christine, and yet she was craving his embrace and touch.

She felt him bury his face in her hair and immediately felt sorrow fill her heart. This would be over soon. As soon as they moved into the villa of their own, they would not have to worry about anyone walking into the room and wondering why they were sleeping so far apart, or why one left the room as the other was dressing. She had fallen in love with him when she knew it was useless and now her heart was going to be broken in two, for she knew who he dreamed about.

Christine. That damned Christine! If she had only accepted him for who he was they wouldn't be in this position right now! Beatrice would not have seen Erik again and she wouldn't be trying to push her feelings for him aside because she would not have any! Beatrice suddenly felt her heart clench. She would have never seen Erik again. That thought was not as appealing as Beatrice thought it would be.

Even though she did not want to feel for him because it would break her own heart, she did, and she was lying in his arms now, safe and warm. So though she damned Christine for her rejection of Erik, she also had to thank her for it, for if it had not been for that, she would not have the man who she knew to be her knight in shining armor with her in that moment.

Beatrice glided her hand from around Erik's waist and up his chest, feeling every inch of every muscle that gave him so much power, and sighed. She then lifted her head to find him sleeping and shook her head in exasperation.

His mask. He was so tired these days he never took it off before he went to sleep and for the past few nights she had been doing it for him. She did so then and set it on the nightstand. She then shifted so that she could look at his peaceful face from above as she played with little bits of his hair. She moved closer to his face and gently brushed her lips against his making him stir. She did not move when he did so and instead ran her tongue over his lips gently.

"Christine…" he breathed. Beatrice pulled away from him as if his lips burned her and stared at him through wide eyes. Any hope, any small thought that he could love her was gone. What could she do to compete with a prima donna with the voice of an angel? Nothing. She could merely play the piano, and her voice was not as heavenly as Christine's. She was a toad compared to her!

Beatrice had seen Christine on one or two occasions, but they never spoke, yet Beatrice could see why Erik loved her. She was sweet, kind and gentle with beauty unmatched in France as far as Beatrice had seen. She had also met Raoul de Chagny, and understood why Erik disliked him so much. Beatrice had thought he was a woman at first glance, but she never told that to anyone, especially Madame Giry. He was not a real man. _Erik_ was a real man. From the moment Beatrice had laid her eyes on the man he grew to be, she knew Erik was a real man.

She slid away from Erik slowly and rolled onto her side, her back facing him. If he was still dreaming of Christine, then she had no place in his heart. She had learned from experience that the subconscious mind could tell us things we might not know even in close examination of ourselves. Christine would forever---

"Beatrice…" Erik suddenly breathed. Beatrice whipped her head around to look at him. His eyes were still closed and he hadn't moved…he was still dreaming! Beatrice didn't even try to help the smile that brightened her whole face as hope return into her heart. Perhaps she had spoken too quickly, after all he was trying, and with Gods help, she was sure that he would forget her in time.


	15. Thundering Music

_**Chapter 15: Thundering Music**_

_He hovered above her as she breathed heavily, the rise and fall of her chest increasing his desire. His mouth came crashing down on hers causing her to moan in approval and wrap her arms around his neck. His bare chest pushed onto hers as their tongues dueled from mouth to mouth and they moaned on the others lips. Her thighs cradled his lower body perfectly and she could feel him throbbing against her. He broke the kiss and trailed hot, wet kisses down her neck and chest._

"_Erik!" she gasped, pulling him closer as he suckled her breast._

"_Yes, mon amour," he growled against her skin. "Tell me your desires. Tell me, Beatrice."_

"_Erik!"_

Erik's eyes shot opened as he sat straight up in bed, breathing heavily, his body reacting to the dream. He shot a wide eyed look of terror at Beatrice who lay still sleeping next to him, her back turned to him. He sighed and wiped the sweat from his brow. The moon shown through the window of the master bedroom they now found themselves in.

That afternoon, when Erik and Beatrice had told Ruban and Esperanza that they would stay at the villa, the couple had taken them there right away to get settled. When the Castillos left, Erik had seen the way Beatrice looked a bit sorrowful, and had decided that they would share a room as they always had. When he told her she seemed to become lively again. Who knew something so simple could make a woman so happy?

It was now night and Erik had gotten little sleep between his dreams of Christine that seemed to follow or come before dreams of Beatrice. The dreams of Christine were sometimes nightmares. They would either be making love or he would relive that night in his lair with Raoul almost being hung and her begging for his life. The dreams of Beatrice never changed. They were always engaged in erotic games.

What was the matter with him?! He couldn't think of her that way! If she knew what he was thinking, she would surely look at him in disgust and leave him. That thought did not please him at all. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, he needed her, and it seemed she needed him. But he would not allow his mere fantasies to get the better of him. He promised he would not repeat the mistakes of the past, and he wouldn't. No matter how much his body seemed to cry for hers now, he would not make her do anything she would regret, and he knew she would regret it.

Erik stood from the bed and walked toward the balcony of the bedroom that had a magnificent view of Madrid. The moon was full and shone down onto the city giving everything a soft, heavenly glow. He leaned his hands on the railing and breathed deeply, taking in the night air. A cool breeze caressed his flaming skin and he welcomed it to calm him.

"Christine," he whispered into the air. "I wish to be rid of you, but that is as impossible as trying to change the weather." He sighed again and leaned his forehead into one hand. "Dear Lord," he prayed softly. "Help me." The sky quickly darkened and he looked up with a frown of confusion as the moon disappeared behind black clouds. A clap of thunder sounded through the night sky with lightening accompanying it and a scream sounded in the bedroom. Erik whirled around to see Beatrice sitting up and staring out the door in more fright than he had ever seen from her.

"Erik!" she cried. "I cannot see! Where are you?!"

"I am here, mon ange," he replied, quickly shutting the door to the balcony to keep the rain from coming in. He quickly went to the bed and she threw her arms around him, sobbing into his shoulder. "Shh, do not cry mon petite," he cooed, wrapping his arms gently around her. "It is merely a storm."

"I hate storms!" she sobbed making him chuckle. "It is not funny, Erik! They frighten me!"

"There is nothing to be frightened of, little one," he murmured, bringing her gaze to meet his. "It is just water falling from the sky." Thunder clapped in the sky again and lightening illuminated the room for a moment and with a shriek Beatrice buried her face in his chest again. Erik glared out the window in irritation at the thunder and lightening.

"It is so loud!" she breathed into his chest and Erik felt her begin to tremble in his arms. He sighed then had a second thought to help her get over this fear of storms.

"It _is_ loud," he agreed, resting his chin on her head. "It thunders like music." Beatrice looked up at him in confusion. "Music can be compared to a thundering storm," he continued. "When you feel the music in your chest, are you afraid?" Beatrice shook her head. "Then why be afraid when you feel the thunder from a storm in your chest and all around you?"

"But the lightening---"

"Is just that," he interrupted. "It is mere light." She stared at him for a moment but said nothing. "Come," he entreated, taking her hands to help her off of the bed. He led her toward the door but she shrunk back, whimpering and shaking her head. "We will not go outside," he assured her. "Trust me." Beatrice allowed him to lead her slowly to the glass door and he wrapped his arms around her, pinning her between the door and his body.

"Erik," she whispered. "Do not leave me here."

"I will not," he whispered into her ear. "I will protect you from the storm." Thunder and lightening came together in the sky again and Erik felt Beatrice jump then try to turn into him. He held her where she was, not willing to let her give up so easily on fighting her fear.

"Erik, please---!"

"Close your eyes, Beatrice," he whispered. She did as she was told and he placed her hands on the cool glass of the door. "When the thunder sounds again, I want you to feel it. Embrace it, and it will not hurt you. It will not frighten you."

Within seconds the thunder sounded again and though Beatrice flinched slightly, she kept her hands on the glass feeling the vibration of the sound through it. What had gone through her mind then, Erik would never know, but she did not move for the longest time. She slowly opened her eyes with a small smile creeping to her face. More thunder, more lightening, but this time, she did not move at all. Erik smiled at her success and she turned to face him with a wide grin.

"You did it!" she smiled, sniffling a bit from when she had been crying.

"_You_ did it, mon petite," he corrected gently and wiped the tears from her cheeks. "I merely guided you."

"Thank you!" she smiled, throwing her arms around is neck. "I shall never fear another storm again!" Erik smiled and wrapped his arms around her as he buried his face in her hair.

He suddenly realized that God _had_ helped him after all. He brought him to Beatrice, something he surely did not regret. This woman might be able to help him forget Christine. He had to admit, there was never a dull moment with her, this night being an example. Being with Beatrice was a chance to have his thoughts consumed by her instead of Christine. He would have to repay her for everything she had done for him. His thoughts ran to what he had said about music being compared to a storm, and knew exactly what would make her happy.



"Erik! What is the meaning of this?!" Beatrice laughed as he led her with a blindfold over her eyes.

"You shall see," he smiled, opening a door in front of him. "I think you will like this." He walked her into the room, their footsteps echoing on the wooden floor through the room. There sat in front of the only window in the room a black, grand piano with the lid opened so that the strings of the instrument could be seen. Erik came to a stop right next to it and pulled Beatrice in front of him, his hands on her wrists to guide her hands.

"Erik?" she breathed.

"Trust me, cheri," he whispered in her ear. "You were wondering where I had disappeared to, yes?"

"Yes."

"This is why." Erik guided her hands to touch the wood of the piano and she gasped slightly. He ran her hands across the edge and guided her toward the keyboard of the thing. Her led her to the bench and sat her in front of the keys then gently untied the blindfold from her eyes. Her hands went up slightly and her eyes widened along with the grin on her lips.

"Erik!" she gasped. "A piano?! How did you ever afford this?!"

"Ruban _did_ give us money, did he not?" Beatrice turned to him as he sat next to her on the bench.

"You did not---"

"I know I did not have to do this," he interrupted. "But if you only knew why."

"Why do you not tell me?" she wondered. Erik looked at her in surprise as she frowned in confusion at his statement.

"Never mind," he smiled, shaking his head slightly. "Do you like your surprise?"

"Erik, I adore it!" she smiled, throwing her arms around his neck. "Thank you so much!"

"Do not thank me just yet," he whispered making her push from him to frown in confusion again. "Would you like to have your first lesson with your new teacher?" Beatrice's face lit up and she couldn't keep herself from planting her lips onto his. He was turning out to be even more than she had first seen him to be.

Erik wrapped his arms around her as he shut his eyes tightly to take in the feeling of her lips. Her tongue plunged into his mouth, showing him how grateful she was for this gift. His tongue tangled with hers and she moaned in approval when he stroked it against hers, slowly and gently, showing her that she was more than welcome. Her fingers tangled in his hair, mussing it up in her passion to thank him as she bit his lower lip gently. She pulled away slowly, his lip still in her teeth and he groaned in approval.

"Thank you," she whispered as they caught their breath together.

"You are welcome," he whispered back. "Time for your lesson." Beatrice smiled and situated herself so that she could play.

"Keep your back straight," Erik instructed, lightly touching the small of her back. Her back immediately straightened at his touch and he could not help the grin that spread across his lips.

"Elbows in…" he continued, and wrapped one arm around her to push her elbows into her. "We do not want you flapping your arms about like a chicken do we?" Beatrice giggled and shook her head. She began a scale, her fingers touching the keys just enough to produce a sound that could not be duplicated.

Erik watched her intently, examining her technique and looking for something he might have to correct. Her hands glided across the keyboard as she continued to warm up to the feel of this new piano and she allowed her eyes to close to become one with it. Erik suddenly noticed her wrists begin to drop slightly and frowned at them. She had done fine a second ago. He gently pushed them up and Beatrice's eyes shot open at the feeling of his hands on her wrists. She blushed when she realized what he was correcting and sighed slightly.

"Madame Emerson was trying to break that habit from me as well," she smiled, turning to face him, but still playing the scale softly.

"Habits can be broken when you have discipline," Erik replied. "Nothing to worry about, my dear." Beatrice looked back at her hands, concentrating on keeping them perfect. Erik watched her again and examined her from head to toe. At looking at her feet he noticed something strange about the way she was sitting. Her feet were tucked beneath the bench with one ankle over the other. Without a word he slid his foot behind her feet and pushed them apart then forward.

"Erik---?!"

"You will not be able to reach the pedals fast enough with your feet tucked under the bench like that," he explained, concentrated on fighting with her feet.

"But Madame Emerson never said---"

"Madame Emerson is no longer your teacher," he interrupted a bit sternly. "_I_ am. Keep your feet here." He pushed her feet into place and she nodded, knowing that what he had said was true. "There is one way I can break _that_ habit," he muttered and Beatrice frowned at him in confusion.

"And how is that?" she wondered.

"I _could_ tie your feet into place," he smirked, making her laugh.

"And what if something should happen?" she retorted with a smile.

"Such as?"

"Something that would require me to get up and away quickly?"

"Well, you would just have to wait for me to cut your bonds, wouldn't you?"

Beatrice giggled and turned back to her playing. Erik watched with pride as she concentrated on keeping her feet where they were, and her hands in the proper position, with her elbows in and her back straight. He admired her determination. When she got it in her head to do something, she would not stop until it was done, and done right. She played the scale over and over again for twenty minutes more until both of them could not stand it any longer.

"I believe that is enough for today, mon ange," he said, placing his hand on both of hers. "You have done well."

"I was getting bored with the scale as well, Erik," she smiled as she closed the door over the keyboard. "You need not hide your feelings from me." She smiled and stood up taking his hand and dragging him from the bench.

"Beatrice---?!"

"Come, Erik!" she laughed. "Ruban and Esperanza will be here any moment!"


	16. Horses For Sale!

**A/N:** Idiot that I am, I forgot to type in the disclaimer and which song I used in chapter 8. I don't own any of te characters in Phantom of the Opera like Erik, Christine, Raoul, Madame Giry or Meg. And the song I used was Know Why the Nightingale Sings by Nightwish. And please, don't diss my inaccuracy on the horses I used in the chapter...i did as much research as I could on it.

_**Chapter 16: Horses for Sale!**_

"This horse is a fine specimen, Señor," the salesman told Erik of a white mare that stood next to him. Erik nearly snatched the lead rope from the man and pulled the horses face close to his own. He examined the side of the animal's head as it picked its head up suddenly.

"What breed is it?" he wondered, thoughtfully.

"Lusitano, Señor," the other man replied, watching Erik examine the horse.

"She is a beauty," he nodded in agreement. "Do you not agree, Beatrice?"

"I do," she nodded, standing next to him.

"She could be yours," he whispered, patting the animal's neck.

"That would be nice," she whispered back. "But she had not caught my eye." Erik sighed. This gamed was getting tiresome. They had been there for hours and he still could not find the one she had wanted. When they had first arrived, Esperanza had dragged Beatrice off somewhere, leaving Ruban and Erik to look leisurely at the horses for sale. He had seen a few that would suit Beatrice near perfectly, and this one in front of him was one. When the girls came back, Beatrice ad told him that she found the horse she wanted but _he_ had to figure out which one it was without her help.

"Beatrice, I grow tired of your games," he sighed, handing the horse back to the salesman as they walked away. "Why do you not just tell me which horse you want?"

"Because it is much more fun to make you guess," she smiled sweetly, slipping her hand into his as they walked. "Can you not just play along?"

"I have shown you at least a dozen horses that you would like, and you say no to every one of them! This guessing is giving me a headache!"

"You have two more chances and then I shall show you the horse I desire."

Erik sighed again. Two more?! Was she trying to give him a stroke?! Certainly all of this brainwork was not good for him! Well, perhaps he could show her the two he had thought she would like? He searched the horses and saw a buckskinned color that he had seen before. It was a lean looking horse, a dainty mare that would make Beatrice look ever so elegant atop it.

He led Beatrice toward it and she smiled at is sudden eagerness. She stepped ahead of him when they reached the horse and ran her hand down its neck.

"Isn't she a beauty?" the salesman smiled. Beatrice nodded as she petted the animal. She ran her fingers through the combed, black mane on the horse's neck and patted its back.

"It is an Azteca," Erik whispered in her ear, coming up behind her. "You would look beautiful on it."

"I would look even more beautiful on the one _I_ chose," she smiled in a whisper. Erik sighed and bowed his head in exasperation, and she giggled.

"My head hurts too much for this," he groaned, rubbing his temples.

"Stop being so dramatic, Erik," she smiled walking around the horse's rump. "I am sure that with your vast intelligence you can see which horse I have chosen for myself."

"My vast intelligence has not been tried like this for so long," he explained, walking around to meet her in front of the horse again.

"Well, we will just have to try you a bit harder every day," she smiled.

"Please, Beatrice," he groaned.

"One last chance," she said, holding her index finger to his lips. He sighed and nodded. He searched for the other horse he had seen early, and he was sure if that was not the one she wanted he would go absolutely mad. There it was! The tall one with the almost silk-like fur! She was sure to love _that_ one!

Erik nearly dragged her toward it, and he heard her giggling behind him but he was sure this one was the one she wanted. It was the only mare they hadn't looked at. The salesman stood next to the horse and was about to speak when Erik raised his hand to silence him. He pulled Beatrice in front of the horse and waited for her to say something along the lines of, "This is the one! I _must_ have it!" To Erik's total and utter disappointment, she merely shook her head.

"A beauty, to be sure, but not the one I had my eye on," she shrugged. Erik growled in frustration, making her look at him with wide eyes.

"I am no longer guessing which one you want!" he growled. "Take me to it and I will buy it for you!" The silent salesman stared at Erik in fear and slowly moved the horse he was selling away from the masked man before the animal was hurt. Beatrice glanced at the man then looked back at Erik, pursing her lips in irritation at is sudden foul mood. She walked toward him quickly and gripped his arm, dragging him down the isle again. They passed so many horses, Erik was sure that Ruban and Esperanza would not be able to find them again. When they finally stopped, Beatrice stood next to a huge animal with a black coat, mane and tail that looked as if it they been polished. The mane had a slight wave to it, and some of it fell down the horse's face.

Erik glanced at the magnificent thing then at Beatrice. _This_ was the she had chosen? How could he have missed such a beautiful animal?!

"Ah, señora, you have returned!" the salesman smiled standing between Beatrice and the animal. "Come to buy this beauty, eh?"

"If my husband will allow, yes," she nodded, hinting to Erik that he had better say yes. Erik stared at the horse as it simply stood, waiting to be told what to do. He ran a hand down the animal's neck and glided it across the shoulder then down its back. He could feel the power in the muscles. A strong horse, to be sure, and a beauty besides.

"What breed is she?" Erik wondered.

"_He_ is an Andalusian," the salesman replied, and Erik looked back at the man with wide eyes filled with surprise.

"_He?_" he repeated, and the salesman nodded. That couldn't be right! Beatrice knew better than to choose a male! Mares were much more lady-like, and gentler besides! This man must be playing some elaborate joke! Time for an investigation.

Erik moved toward the horse's rump and bent down to make it look like he was examining its hind legs, but he was looking for evidence of its gender. Sure enough, he found what he was looking for, and the man was unfortunately right. Erik stood up and patted the horse's back then walked toward Beatrice who still stood next to the salesman, her hands on her hips as she waited for his answer.

"No," he said flatly and Beatrice's eyes grew wide as her hands fell to her sides.

"What?" she breathed.

"No," he replied again.

"But, Erik---"

"I said no, Beatrice. End of discussion."

Beatrice was taken aback by is interruption and watched in amazement as he started walking away. She stomped her foot in sudden rage that he had dismissed her that way and turned to the salesman.

"I will be right back," she whispered and the man nodded. Beatrice ran after Erik and stood in front of him blocking his path.

"Do not throw a tantrum here, Beatrice," he pleaded.

"You said you would buy anything I wanted," she reminded him, more than happy to throw his own words back in his face as payback for his treatment of her. "_That_ is the horse I want."

"Ladies do not belong on a stallion," Erik replied, as if that explained everything. Beatrice suddenly smirked, knowing exactly how to respond to that comment.

"I would beg to differ," she retorted so low he almost could not hear her, and he frowned in confusion at her. She was going to enjoy this. This was the perfect opportunity to pay him back for all the times he was flirting shamelessly with her and making her head spin because of it. She knew her opponent's ways, now she would use them against him.

"Beatrice, what are you talking about?" Erik wondered. She suddenly stepped so close to him that their breath mingled between them and one of her hands slid up his arm and around his neck. He stayed still not knowing what to do and in shock that she was being this way in public.

"I am sure that most ladies would prefer to _ride_ a stallion," she smiled mischievously as she looked into his eyes. Erik's mind went reeling. This was not Beatrice. She would not try to go against his word when he knew it was for her own good, would she? There was a logical explanation for why he did not want her on a stallion: They were unpredictable. A _mare_ wouldn't hurt her.

Erik suddenly realized something when he repeated her words in his head, she had emphasized a certain word. His eyes grew wide and Beatrice's grin grew wider as she saw the realization in is eyes. That was a wicked remark! She was suggesting something else! Did his little one just say that?! Did she know what she was saying?!

"Beatrice---"

"I've never _ridden_ a stallion before," she continued, ignoring his attempted plea. The tone of her voice and the way she was looking at him, not to mention what she was saying was sending his mind into a frenzy! Images that he should not have been seeing were playing through his head and if she didn't stop, he was sure he was going to show her _exactly_ what he was thinking.

"_You know how to end this, Erik!_" his mind yelled at him. "_One of two things can happen. Either you buy the horse for her or you drag her home, kicking and screaming. Whatever you do just pick one!_"

"Alright, you can have him," he finally replied roughly. Beatrice's face lit up and she wrapped both her arms around his neck, hugging him fiercely.

"Thank you!" she smiled and ran back toward the salesman with Erik trailing behind. He breathed deeply and ran a hand through his hair. Not really the choice he had wanted to make, but it made her happy…and it got her to stop being so damn seductive! When he reached the two, he paid the man for the horse and the man led the animal to a stall that said "sold" on it.

"What will you name him?" Erik wondered as he and Beatrice began walking again.

"I am not sure yet," Beatrice confessed. "Perhaps something Egyptian."

"Egyptian?"

"Yes. Maybe I shall name him after an Egyptian pharaoh." They thought for a moment, both trying to think of an Egyptian name.

"Ramses," they both replied after a moment and they looked at each other in surprise.

"It is perfect," Beatrice laughed, slightly.

"Great minds think alike, obviously," Erik smirked making Beatrice giggle.

"Erik! Beatrice!" a feminine voice called. The two turned around to see Esperanza and Ruban coming toward them and they stopped so that their friends could catch up. Esperanza immediately took Beatrice's hands and looked into her eyes.

"Well?" she asked, obviously about the horse Beatrice had wanted. Beatrice simply nodded and Esperanza hugged her in excitement. "Did he protest?" Beatrice nodded. "What happened?" Beatrice glanced at Erik with a small smile and he straightened in a bit of discomfort at the memory of her being so suggestive.

"Let us just say that my _persuasion_ helped change his mind," Beatrice smirked and Esperanza giggled.

"Beatrice! You are wicked!" she whispered.

"Not nearly," Beatrice smiled back, shaking her head. Ruban and Erik looked at each other and shook their heads, both having fallen victim to feminine wiles more than once.

"Women," they muttered together. The girls looked at them and made faces at their husbands.

"Men," they replied. The men rolled their eyes.

If only the Castillos had been in Beatrice's and Erik's minds, they would no that they were _acting_ as though they were annoyed with each other.

Beatrice couldn't help but dwell on the fact that "persuading" Erik had had more of an effect on her than she thought it would. It seemed that being so suggestive had brought a feeling to her that she had never really experienced before. She wanted him. Natural enough, considering that she was attracted to him, and he was a man and she was a woman, but this pretending to be husband and wife was becoming too much. She knew they could not be together, that way, out of wed-lock, but their pretending made it almost necessary that they should eventually. It was not lost on either of them that they had been becoming very close. After all, they slept in each other's arms every night. But Beatrice knew that he would never see her that way. She was nothing compared to Christine.

Erik, on the other hand, knew what was happening with himself. He couldn't deny it any longer. He was becoming attached to Beatrice and it showed in the way he had just lost his will power under her charms. Oh, yes, he knew he was slowly and surely falling in love with her, he just needed something to absolutely prove it. Certainly his gift giving had proven it? In two days he had managed to give her three things that she absolutely adored. But he wasn't sure that it was only that. He loved spending his time with her. He could be anywhere in the world as long as she was with him, it had been that way from the beginning. Certainly his jealousy and rage at finding her beneath another man had proven it, and his reaction at finding out she was alright. He might have been, but he wasn't sure yet that he was in love with her.

"Erik?" Beatrice called, making him jump as she slid her hand into his. "Esperanza has invited us to a masquerade ball they are hosting," she smiled when she was sure she had his attention.

"Is that so?" he wondered looking at the couple in front of them.

"Yes," Ruban nodded. "Ever since we built the opera house it has been our tradition. We host it at our hacienda."

"It would mean so much if you could come!" Esperanza pleaded, clutching her husband's arm in excitement.

"When is it?" Erik wondered.

"Next week," Ruban replied.

"Sunday night," Esperanza smiled, hinting at Erik that it was the day after he was supposed to get Beatrice's wedding ring. He sighed at her reminder but managed to smile down at Beatrice.

"I suppose if we are not too busy," he replied and she smiled at him in amusement. He just couldn't say no to her.

"When, prey-tell, are we ever busy?" she whispered and Erik glared down at her, but as soon as he saw this the perfect opportunity to pay her back for her suggestive remarks earlier, he grinned mischievously. As Beatrice frowned in confusion at his actions he leaned toward her ear.

"Whenever we are not in bed, mon ange," he whispered, leaving a kiss on her earlobe. He stood tall again and out of the corner of her eye he noticed that her entire face, neck, and chest were a crimson red, and it made him smile in triumph.

"_That__ will teach you to try to play a player_," he thought.


	17. Gifts

_**Chapter 17: Gifts**_

Saturday. The day all the salesmen brought out their venders to sell their wares. The day Erik had to get that ring for Beatrice. All week, Esperanza had been reminding him in some form or another and it was getting rather tiresome. But all of that will be worth it when he saw the look on Beatrice's face when he gave her the ring. He knew exactly how to do it. He would take her into the music room, sit her on the bench, kneel down on one knee---

Wait. No, the stables. He would take her to the stables in front of Ramses so that he could be a witness.

No, that wasn't right either. At the ball---

Erik growled in frustration as he paced the length of the master bedroom. Esperanza had taken Beatrice to find a costume for the ball tomorrow night, leaving him alone to think things through. This was far too difficult. It should not be this hard to simply give her a ring! It had been simple to give her that necklace that she seemed to wear all the time now. It had been easy to get her the piano and it had been somewhat simple to buy Ramses for her. What was so bloody different about a ring?!

It hit him like a brick to the head. It was different because it was saying that they were married, that she was his, that they were bound together…all of which were lies. This was what he had wanted at one time, but this was a fiction, a pleasant one, but a fiction nonetheless. It was as though he had what he wanted but at the same time he didn't.

Still, the simple fact that it was an elaborate scheme made it exciting. It made his heart race every time he knew he was teetering on the edge of the border with Beatrice, going so far but not quite far enough. It was truly enough to make his head spin right off his shoulders, and he loved the way Beatrice reacted to him.

Erik smiled slightly at the thought of Beatrice blushing crimson from face to chest. His lingering eyes always got him into so much trouble because after seeing her, he would see her everywhere. It was the same way it had been with Christine. His mind had been consumed by her and it was beginning to frighten him a bit. If he did the same thing to Beatrice as he had to Christine, he didn't know what he would do. He would probably kill himself for making the same mistake twice!

He shook all thoughts from his head. For now, he would just go and get the ring for Beatrice. He could worry about those other things later. He would take this entire thing one step at a time, the first being to actually get the ring. He grabbed his cloak off of the bed and walked quickly toward the door to and on hurried feet he ran through the house.

Before he could blink he found himself in the street and walking down an isle of venders with the salespeople trying to sell him everything you could think of. He looked for the vender Esperanza had spoken of, a jewelry vender of some sort. How was he ever going to find it in this bustle of peop---?

"Señor!"

Erik whirled around behind him to see just what he was looking for. The salesman had called to him, probably to ask him if he would like to buy something for his sweetheart. If the man only knew.

"She said you would be here," the man said. "I have your ring for you." Erik frowned in curiosity as he drew closer to the vender.

Esperanza had told the man what Erik looked like? Of course, it wouldn't be hard to describe him. He could just here Esperanza's voice saying, "He is a tall man with a mask over half of his face." It was better than being called a monster.

"Here it is, señor," the man smiled pulling out a small white box. "The señora with the red hair seemed to be quite taken by it." Erik nodded his thanks, handed the man some money to pay for it and walked back to the hacienda. He ran into the study and sat at the desk to look at the ring without interruption.

When he opened the tiny box, he could not believe his eyes. Inside the box sat a diamond ring on a silver band, the diamond set between two rubies. His new little angel was surprising him more and more. She had impeccable taste that much he had gathered a long time ago, and this ring would definitely look fetching on her hand. He closed the box and tucked it into one of the drawers where he knew Beatrice would not look. She never came into the study anyway.

Now, all he needed to do was figure out how e was going to surprise her. He silently prayed that Beatrice took a very long time in finding something to wear for the ball.



"What about this one, Beatrice?" Esperanza asked, presenting a golden satin gown.

"I refuse to go to the masquerade ball as a wench," Beatrice replied flatly. "I do not think Erik would appreciate it either."

"He would if we bought him a pirate costume," Esperanza grinned.

"I do not think he would appreciate _that_ either," Beatrice smiled, remembering Krystal and suddenly reminding herself that she to write to Madame Giry and Meg soon.

"Well, what would like to go as?" Esperanza wondered as they began walking through the shop again.

"Something Erik would like," she replied. "He has done so much for me that I wish to do something for him."

"You see?!" Esperanza smiled, nudging her friend a bit. "Whatever he did, he did it because you looked beautiful for him!"

"I would hope it was more than that, Esperanza!" Beatrice laughed. Esperanza laughed in return then suddenly gasped and dragged Beatrice down another isle. When they finally stopped, it was front of a glass case that had a gown inside it. The gown was made of black satin with elbow length sleeves and had a "V" neckline. The neckline and sleeves were lined wit glittering lace, the lace around the sleeves fell down to the wrists. The gown was on a dummy, and the dummy also wore a tall tiara that was dripping with diamonds, emeralds, rubies and sapphires.

The girls stood in front of the case and stared at the gown for the longest time.

"This---"

"It is---"

They were speechless. The gown was simply too beautiful to be simply sitting in a glass case. A dress like this should be worn on someone as beautiful as it.

"You should be wearing this, Beatrice," Esperanza stated, not taking her gaze away from the gown.

"Please, Esperanza, do not flatter me," Beatrice replied. "I could never look attractive in a dress like this."

"You need dark colors to contrast with your light skin," Esperanza continued. "You would look stunning in black."

"Esperanza---"

"You are going to buy this and be the dark princess for the masquerade ball," the Spanish beauty said and she ran off to find a salesperson.

Beatrice stared at the dress and sighed. She would never impress Erik in this rig. It wasn't how he saw her. He saw her as a scrawny little girl…the one she had been when they met. She was sure that he didn't see her as woman, just a girl. She had freckles that she wasn't proud of, almost no shape and her arms and legs were lanky.

"This dress, señora?"

Beatrice whirled around to see Esperanza had returned with a saleslady and her face immediately turned red all over. The Spanish woman nodded to the question and the saleslady nodded back. "I shall hold it for you, señora Castillo."

"Esperanza!" Beatrice whispered urgently. "I do not want it!"

"Yes you do, I can see it in your eyes!" Esperanza whispered back. "We should find a matching costume for Erik."

"All of his clothes are costumes to him," Beatrice muttered and Esperanza giggled.

"Well, one of them shall be official." The two girls walked through the store and started looking around a bit more. Something suddenly caught Beatrice's eye and she unconsciously started moving toward it. Esperanza frowned in confusion at her friend but followed her all the same.

Beatrice stopped in front of a suit that was covering a dummy and stared at it, mesmerized. She could easily see Erik wearing it, and that was why she did not want to look away from it. The outfit consisted of a white shirt that was unbuttoned to reveal the chest and the black jacket had glitter on the collar and the ends of the sleeves. The trousers and shoes were black and on the dummy's head there was a black mask to cover the eyes, and a long black cape draped down the back.

"I think we found Erik's costume," Esperanza smirked, seeing that Beatrice was imagining Erik in the outfit.

"Yes…" Beatrice sighed in a total trance. "I think so."



"Ruban, I have no idea what to do!" Erik growled in frustration at himself. He was pacing in Ruban's study with the ring for Beatrice in his hand as Ruban sat calmly at his desk.

"I do not see why you are upset, Erik," Ruban replied. "She is your wife. Simply give her the ring."

"You do not understand," Erik said, stopping and leaning on Ruban's desk. "I cannot just _give_ her the ring. It has to be done _romantically_, other wise she will not take it."

"She will not take it?" Ruban laughed. "She would take it if you simply _threw_ it at her!" Ruban began laughing heartily and Erik glared at him.

"This is not a laughing matter, Ruban!" Erik insisted. "I need your help to impress Beatrice and all you can do is laugh at me! You are a friend!"

"You are simply too worked up, Erik," Ruban replied, calming his laughter. "How could I help you? She is _your_ wife."

"You are married…as well. Tell me how I would impress her. Tell me what to do!" Erik fell to his knees with his arms wrapped around his head on the desk. Ruban rolled his eyes at the man's dramatic display and tapped him on the arm. Erik lifted his head to look up at Ruban with round eyes searching for counsel.

"Whatever you do for her, however you give her that ring, she will think it is the most romantic thing you have ever done, until you do something else." Erik looked at Ruban as though he had been given the wisdom of the ages.

"Truly?" Erik hoped, and Ruban nodded.

"If not then my wife does not know women," he said. "Those are her words." Erik shot to his feet with a grin so wide Ruban was afraid his face would stay that way forever.

"God bless you both!" he said and ran toward the door.

"Where are you going?" Ruban called after him, standing and walking after him.

"A florist," Erik replied, opening the door. "I must inquire about a red, long stemmed rose."



"Did you find a costume for the party tomorrow?" Erik wondered as he walked toward Beatrice, his hands behind his back. She was in the stables, grooming Ramses and softly humming to him. She looked up at Erik as he entered the huge stall and a smile crept to her lips, making her eyes light up.

"I did," Beatrice nodded and turned back to combing the horse's mane. "I found one for you as well."

"Did you?" Erik replied, his visible eyebrow rising in intrigue as he stepped on the other side of Ramses.

"You would look very handsome in it," she smiled over the horse's neck.

"Would I?" he replied, making her frown in confusion.

"Is something the matter?" she wondered. Erik met her gaze with slight satisfaction and shook his head.

"Nothing, mon petite," he replied. "Did you ride him yet?"

"No, I have not," she replied, turning her attention back to Ramses. "I was hoping you could help me." Erik looked at her with a frown across his brow.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I have ridden before, but I am not efficient enough to ride by myself. I was hoping you could show me."

"I could," Erik replied and Beatrice's face lit up again. "But first, you must close your eyes for a moment." She frowned at his request in more confusion than she would admit to him. She closed her eyes hesitantly and Erik stepped around Ramses' head to stand in front of her. He pulled his hands in front of him and held a long stemmed red rose with a black ribbon tied around it, and tied into the center of the ribbon was the ring. He placed the bloom beneath her nose, gently touching her upper lip and making her jump slightly, but she did not open her eyes.

"Erik?" she laughed slightly.

"Open your eyes Beatrice," he whispered. Her eyes fluttered open in slight hesitation and as she looked into his eyes, Erik felt a slight thrill run through him. If he could, he would have stayed in that moment forever. Beatrice looked down at the rose and smiled as she took it from him. Her finger touched the knot of the ring and her eyes widened making Erik smiled widely. She turned the rose to see what she was touching and she gasped, placing her free hand over her mouth.

"Erik!" she breathed staring at the ring. "You---"

"I did," he answered, knowing what she was going to say. "A lovely ring for my lovely 'wife'." Beatrice looked into Erik's eyes, her mouth agape.

"I--- You--- Erik! I'm speechless!" she cried.

"As I can see," he smiled. He untied the ribbon around the rose and slipped the ring off of it. "But perhaps it is best if you say nothing other than thank you." He took Beatrice's left hand and was about to slip the ring onto her ring finger when he stopped himself.

This was it. This was the moment he was going to bind her to him in a fictional marriage. Could he do it? He felt like he was making the mistake he made with Christine. Of course, Beatrice had come into this willingly. She hadn't been dragged down into a cave and forced to spend her life with him. What's more is she _wanted_ to come with him. _That_ was what still had him puzzled. Why would she---

"Erik?"

He looked into her eyes as she frowned in confusion and worry at his hesitation. She wasn't afraid. She had never been afraid of him since they met. _That_ made her different from Christine, and _that_ was what made this whole thing different. She didn't fear being bound to him like this. At least, he _hoped_ she didn't.

Erik smiled at her reassuringly then looked back down at her hand and with a slightly trembling hand he slipped the ring onto her finger. Beatrice couldn't help but smile at his hesitation and the way he held her hand in both of his after placing the ring on her finger. He brought her hand to his mouth and brushed his lips against her knuckles before kissing her hand gently, the ring glittering from a bit of sunlight that came in from the window in the stall. Erik smiled at the way a small beam of light that landed on her cheek just below her eye and she giggled at his smile.

"Thank you," she murmured and stood closer to him. "It is just what I wanted."

"I know," he smiled back, studying her face. "Esperanza told me."

"She did?" Beatrice smiled back, leaning closer to Erik's lips. "I shall have to thank her for her meddling. I am sure if it were not for her we would not be becoming closer every day."

"Yes," he breathed as she came so close he could feel her breath fanning his chin. "We should _both_ thank her."

"Kiss me," Beatrice whispered impatiently. Erik obeyed and is mouth came crashing down onto hers. She slipped her arms around his neck as his slipped around her waist. Ramses made a noise and nudged Erik's shoulder, breaking his and Beatrice's kiss. Erik glared at the horse as he still held onto Beatrice who giggled and reached out to pat the animal's neck.

"I should have known he would come between us," Erik muttered, jokingly.

"Oh, Erik, you are so mean," Beatrice pouted, looking back at her masked man. "He is merely being protective."

"Have you two become attached that quickly?" Erik wondered.

"It is possible to become attached to someone or something in a few hours or days," Beatrice retorted, stroking Ramses' neck from Erik's arms.

"Perhaps," Erik murmured, inching closer to her neck. "You and I being an example I suppose?"

"That is a very good example," she smiled, feeling is breath caressing her neck. He brushed his lips against her skin making her giggle and lean her neck to the side to give him greater access to her skin. He ran his lips across her neck and Ramses snorted and shoved Erik back again.

"Damn horse! Stop it!" Erik growled.

"Erik!" Beatrice gasped. "Do not speak to him that way!"

"He is beginning to get on my nerves," Erik muttered.

"_Everything_ gets on your nerves, Erik," Beatrice replied. "We must train that temper of yours."

"There is nothing wrong with my temper," he replied, letting Beatrice go and leaning on the wall of the stall.

"Of course not," Beatrice retorted. "There is nothing wrong with your temper as long as _you_ think there is nothing wrong then there is nothing wrong."

"Do not mock me, Beatrice," Erik said sternly. "It is not wise to---" He stopped himself before he proved her right about his temper, but she noticed it and looked at him with one elegant eyebrow raised in amusement.

"It is not wise to rile your temper, perhaps?" she finished for him and he looked away from her, crossing his arms over his chest. Beatrice turned back to Ramses and stroked his neck, beginning to hum again. Erik gazed at her and she held the rose he had given her close to her, the bloom just above her neckline. He swallowed at where his gaze was leading and looked away again.

"Tell me about the costumes you chose for us," he said, needing to change the subject.

"I think it is best that you be surprised," Beatrice smirked and Ramses nuzzled her a bit and she rubbed him under his chin.

"Are you saying I will not like what you have to say about them?" Erik wondered.

"No," she shrugged. "I merely wish to surprise you."

"Why?"

"Because you have done so much for me, I wish to do something for you."

"That is not necessary."

"As you have said before, I wanted to. I would not be a very good 'wife' if I did not do something for you now and again."

"_You do not need to do anything for me, Beatrice," Erik said, standing fully and walking toward her. He pulled her away from Ramses and wrapped his arms around her, making her look at him with wide eyes. "All you need to do for me is keep me company. I want yours above anyone else's. Tell me you will not leave me, please."_

"_I will not leave you, Erik," Beatrice whispered inching her lips closer to his._

"_I love you," he growled planting his lips to hers in a passionate kiss._

"Erik?" Beatrice called, snapping him out of his daydream. "Are you alright?" she asked and he nodded. She still stood next to Ramses frowning at him in confusion. When had that daydream started? He didn't know, and he didn't much care, he just hoped that she hadn't seen what he was thinking through his eyes.

"My mind was simply wandering," he replied, rolling his shoulders to relax. "I think I shall go inside now. I will need my strength if I am going to be all night tomorrow dancing and whatnot."

"Thank you, again, for my ring, Erik," Beatrice smiled as he walked to go inside. He stopped next to her and ran his hand down her arm gently as they smiled at each other.

"You are welcome, mon cheri," he whispered. He leaned toward her to kiss her, but hesitated, glancing at Ramses then back at her. He left a small, lingering kiss on her cheek and they smiled again at each other before he left and walked inside.

He knew now without a doubt, he was in love with her. When he took her hand in his, when he got mad at Ramses for shoving him away from her, when he had that small daydream, there was no doubt in his mind that he loved her. But he would never tell her. How could she ever love him? It was inconceivable to him that a beautiful, sweet, voluptuous angel could love an ugly, horrible demon like himself. It was too much of a contrast, and besides that, she was sure that he was still in love with Christine, which in a way he was. After all, he _still_ dreamt of her. Would that not be a sign that he was in love with her?

Erik shook his thoughts from his head. He wouldn't dwell on all of these things, and he wouldn't tell Beatrice his feelings for her. What would he gain from it? Rejection. No matter how much of a friend she was, she could never love him, and she wouldn't lie to him just to make him feel better. He didn't want her to. If she told him she wanted him, she would have to mean it, and he would not accept pity love. That was worse than rejection.



As Beatrice watched Erik walk away, she allowed herself to shiver in delight from his hand running down her arm and his lips on her skin from his small kiss. She never thought she could feel this way about any man after what had happened when she was thirteen, but her feelings for Erik were proving her wrong. What was it about him that attracted her?

"Everything," she whispered to herself, and turned back to Ramses. You should not be so jealous, Ramses," she scolded the animal, rubbing under his chin again. "After all, he bought you against is better judgment, did he not?"

Ramses picked his head up as if to nod with a small whinny making Beatrice giggle.

"Yes, he did. We must thank him properly for that, should we not?" An idea popped into her head suddenly and her face lit up. "I have a perfect idea!"

Ramses' ears faced her as if he was extremely interested in hearing what was on her mind.

"I know my voice is not as beautiful as Christine's, but I would still like to sing for him," she whispered, not knowing if Erik was hiding and within earshot. "He may like it. It is the least I can do for everything he has done for me. What do you think, Ramses?"

The horse snorted and nuzzled her slightly making her giggle again.

"Yes," Beatrice smiled stroking the animal's neck. "I think it is a good idea as well, mon beauté."


	18. True Feelings

**A/N:** Another chapter! Yay! I aven't thanked everyone 4 all the reviews! I dint think this story would take off so quickly! thank u all!

_**Chapter 18: True Feelings**_

Esperanza sat at her vanity combing out her thick hair with a silver comb that had been passed on to her by her mother. It had been very enjoyable shopping with Beatrice for costumes for themselves and their husbands. She had decided to buy the golden wench dress for herself and Ruban had agreed to dressing as a pirate. Now the couple was in their master bedroom and Ruban was on the bed as she continued combing her hair. He simply stared at her and she could see him through the mirror as he sat in nothing but his trousers with a look she knew all too well in his eyes.

"Your eyes will strain if you keep staring at me that way, mi querido," she smiled, placing the comb on her vanity. He chuckled and slid off the bed to walk toward her.

"How would my eyes strain when you are so easy on them?" he retorted placing his hands softly on her shoulders and rubbing them gently. He leaned down and started pressing tender kisses on her neck making her smile in ecstasy.

"Beatrice thinks herself unattractive," she suddenly blurted. Ruban frowned in confusion at her in the mirror as he wrapped his arms around her shoulders.

"How did you get to Beatrice while my lips were on your skin?" he wondered making her giggle.

"I was just thinking about our time shopping a moment before your soft lips were caressing my skin," she retorted. "We had seen a dress that she would look gorgeous in, but she seemed to think she would not look attractive in it."

"Is that so?" Ruban replied, beginning to trail kisses down her neck and shoulder in an attempt to draw her full attention to him.

"Ruban, this is serious," she whispered moving away from his lips with a smile to assure him that she was not upset.

"I have had enough of serious matters today," he sighed, standing tall. Esperanza turned in her seat to look at him with a frown of confusion.

"What serious matter have you had to deal with?"

"Erik was asking advice from me today," Ruban replied walking back to the bed and sitting on the edge.

"He did?" Esperanza wondered standing and walking toward him. "About what?"

"He wanted to know how to give Beatrice the ring he bought for her today," Ruban replied, pulling her close to him and wrapping his arms around her waist as her hands slipped up his chest and around his neck. "He was extremely…flustered."

"Flustered?" she smirked, raising an eyebrow in amusement at his choice of words.

"Do not go off on a tangent, mi amor," Ruban retorted. "There is something wrong."

"What do you mean?" Esperanza frowned again, playing with a bit of his hair.

"Well, Beatrice said that there was more to Erik and herself, but she could not tell us what it was," he replied through kisses he planted to her neck. "Something about Erik, but I did not pressure her."

"They seem to be in love, as newly weds should be," Esperanza informed him, lulling her head back a bit. "Why would there be more to their relationship than that?"

"I have seen her hesitance and the look in her eyes when she tells us of their marriage," Ruban said, pulling away to look Esperanza in the eyes. "There is something more there. I just hope it is not something too horrible."

"Why would it be horrible?!" Esperanza gasped, pulling away from Ruban as if burned. "Why would you say something like that about our friends?!"

"Esperanza, I did not mean it the way I said it," Ruban replied quickly, trying to grasp her hands and pull her back toward him, but she wouldn't have it.

"I cannot believe that you would say something like that at all!" she cried her eyes wide and filled with the disbelief she was speaking of. "Beatrice and Erik are the most wholesome couple I have ever met!"

"Mi amor, I do not doubt that they are wholesome---"

"But that is what you just said! You think there is something wrong with them!"

"Why does Erik wear the mask?" Ruban shot back. Esperanza had no response. What could she say? She did not know the answer to that question.

"They had a life before they met us," she finally responded softly.

"Exactly my point," Ruban retorted. "We do not know what happened before they came here. I am just saying that we should prepare ourselves for the worst if they tell us what is wrong. I pray to God it is not the worst, but we should prepare for it." He stood and slowly moved to hold her. She stayed still, looking at him as he drew nearer and eventually wrapped his arms around her, looking deep into her eyes.

"You do not really think something is incredibly wrong with them, do you?" she had to ask.

"I do not know," he shrugged. "But I know that because we are very good friends of theirs, we will understand their situation and remain their friends, will we not?"

Esperanza smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him close.

"Yes," she said.



_The next afternoon..._

Beatrice flew through the halls of the hacienda to see the dress that had arrived. Esperanza had told the saleslady to send it to her so that they could surprise their men, and Esperanza had sent the costumes for Beatrice and Erik to Beatrice. Now they sat in the master bedroom where the servant, Diego, had left them. Beatrice only hoped that they were not in plain sight and at least behind the dressing screen in the room. She wanted to surprise Erik thoroughly, and the only way to do that would be to put the dress on and present his costume to him.

She rounded into the room at lightening speed and looked around. They had a few hours yet before the ball but she wanted to try on that dress! She searched the room with her eyes but found no sign of either costume. She ran behind the dressing screen and sighed in relief when she saw them standing on their dummies looking gorgeous. Diego had read her mind.

"Bring it in here, Diego," she suddenly heard Erik say from the doorway, and ducked fully behind the screen.

"_Drat!_" she thought. "_If he sees me here it will ruin everything!_" She stayed silent as she heard some small clanging noise. She had heard that before. It sounded like tin, or… "_Oh, my Lord. He is going to bathe!_" She knew then and there that she should have come out from her hiding place and excused herself before he began undressing, but as the thought crossed her mind, it didn't seem to be a good idea.

She saw something land on the bed and knew at once he had begun taking his clothes off. She knew she was going to regret this, but she did it anyway. Standing on her tip-toes she peeked over the screen just enough so that he would not see her. There was the huge basin, Diego beginning to fill it with water, and there stood Erik unbuttoning his shirt as it was already untucked from his trousers. Beatrice swallowed hard as he peeled his shirt off and threw it on the bed then began working at his trousers.

"_That is enough, Beatrice,_" she scolded herself and shrunk down from her toes. However much she wanted to see him, it would not be right. He had never done this to her. It was just so…wicked. She knew if she were to see him her mind would be filled with images and fantasies that were not becoming of a lady, and that---

His trousers landed on the bed.

"_Oh, Lord, forgive me,_" she prayed, and peeked out from the side of the screen. Erik was already in the tub, relaxing in the hot water with his arms resting on both ends, and his head lulling back a bit, his back facing her. What was becoming her?! She should not be spying on him! What would he say?!

"_He would either be very angry or he would say something positively wicked!_" she thought, knowing him all too well. Beatrice was suddenly jolted from her thoughts when she heard something that sounded a bit like humming. She turned and stood on her tip-toes again to see where the sound was coming from.

"_Of course it is Erik, you twit!_" she informed herself, coldly. "_Who __else__ would it be?!_" She watched him in interest and listened closely to try to figure out if she had heard the song before. A small smile crept to her face as she watched him, his fingers moving as if he were conducting an orchestra.

_Masquerade_

_Paper faces on parade_

_Masquerade_

_Hide your face so the world will never find you_

Oh, yes, she knew that song. They had played it at the masquerade ball in France at the Opera Populaire at the beginning of the year. She had attended, but left early because she had started to feel sick. Meg had told her about what had happened after she had gone, and when Beatrice had heard everything, she immediately regretted not staying. If she had stayed, she could have seen Erik again, and she would have had some excitement in her life. Her life had been so boring, she was sure that soon she was going to go mad.

But then Erik came back. Dangerous, unpredictable, mysterious Erik who had brought her to Spain and was, at that very moment, bathing on the other side of the screen she was hiding behind. If Madame Giry had been there right then she surely would have taken the whip to Beatrice. Not that the woman ever did when the girl had been living there, but surely, what Beatrice was doing now would call for a lashing.

Beatrice stifled her sigh as she stood flat on her feet again. What was she to do?! It was things like this that she had been afraid of in coming with him. She had found him attractive from the start, and she knew that attraction would only grow if they were together ninety percent of the time. But it was unavoidable. They now shared a house of their own and they had been sharing a bed every night, also against her better judgment, and all of it was becoming a bit much.

She heard some splashing on the other side and knew he was probably scrubbing down…something. Not being able to help herself she peeked around again and saw him scrubbing his back with a long-handled brush. She watched in awe as his muscles flexed and moved beneath his drenched skin, and she had the undeniable urge to just reach out and touch him, but somehow managed to stay still. She never realized how nice it was to look at a man until Erik, and she welcomed the sight if it was this easy on the eyes.

Beatrice was jolted from her thoughts when she noticed he was had stopped moving and was now just sitting there. Had she made a noise? Did he know she was there? Not really wanting to find out the answer to either question she ducked behind the screen again, praying he had not seen her.



Erik had to keep himself from fidgeting. Something was wrong, though he couldn't figure out what it was. He stayed very still, trying to hear the slightest noise. He had a feeling that someone was in the room with him, however he couldn't be sure. He felt like he was being watched. He could feel the gaze boring into the back of his head. He turned his head just enough to see behind him out of the corner of his eye. He noticed the dressing screen move ever so slightly and immediately tensed.

So someone _was_ hiding in here. He stood and grabbed the robe sitting on the chair of the vanity he was next to and wrapped it around him then pulled the belt out from around it and quickly made his Punjab lasso, not wanting to be unarmed if it were someone of disagreeable character. He turned to face the screen.

On wet yet somehow silent feet he moved toward it, preparing his lasso. He faced his back to the screen but his eyes were fixed on the edge. He peeked around the side and saw nothing but two outfits that he had never seen before. He frowned slightly in confusion at the costumes and in confusion at the fact that no one was there even after the screen had moved. Had it been his imagination?

His doubts were laid to rest about his sanity when he heard hurried footsteps moving towards the door. He whipped his head around and saw a feminine figure with cascading fiery hair running down her back.

"Beatrice?" he frowned deeper, instantly making sure his robe covered him completely from her sight. She came to a dead stop but did not turn to look at him. A thief, a criminal, a servant, any other kind of intruder he could handle, but when it came to Beatrice, he was at a loss of what to do.

"_Do not make her think you are mad at her,_" his subconscious warned. He cleared his throat and saw her shoulders stiffen.

"Turn around, mon ami," he said reassuringly. "I am not upset."

She slowly turned on her heel, her eyes cast down and her hands clasped in front of her.

"Erik---" she choked. "I-I did not mean to--- That is, I was…" She trailed off. What was she to say? She had been caught and now, even though he said he was not upset, he had to be! Beatrice felt her heart begin to pound in her chest when she noticed him coming closer. What was he doing?! Was he going to punish her?! No, of course not! This was Erik, not some cruel monster! But, nothing like _this_ had ever happened before. What if his temper got the best of him? She hated to think of what he would do when _truly_ upset.

"Beatrice, look at me," he murmured. Her eyes slowly met his and he gave her a slight smile. "Truly, I am not angry with you."

She looked away from him in shame and he sighed at her as he untied his lasso. His only thought was how long had she been there.

"I wanted to surprise you," she said in a small voice. "I wanted to show you the costumes Esperanza and I picked for us."

Erik couldn't help his smile from growing a little wider as he tied the belt around his robe to keep it shut. She _always_ surprised him, and he was sure he would never get tired of it. A thought suddenly sprung into his head, and he knew he would get a thrill from seeing her blush when he said this.

"Answer me one question, mon petite," he murmured pulling her hands into his. "Did you enjoy what you saw?" Sure enough, her eyes met his again and her face stained as crimson as a rose.

"E-Erik," she said breathlessly. "You have a wicked sense of humor!"

"I feel compelled to remind you that you _like_ my sense of humor, mon ange," he smirked, not taking his gaze from her face.

"When have I said such a thing?!" Beatrice wondered.

"The words do not need to be said. I can see it in your eyes."

"You do not look into my eyes long enough to be able to tell!"

"That is not true."

"Erik! Let me go! You are---!" Beatrice caught herself before she actually admitted what she had been thinking the whole time. She hadn't wanted to dwell on it, but he wasn't wearing anything under that robe, and she thought now would be a perfect opportunity to remind him of that and escape.

"You do not like my body?" Erik wondered, pulling her against him and wrapping his arms around her gently.

"I do not like it this close to me," she shot back pushing away from him. He let her go and smirked in amusement as she composed herself. "All of this flirting is going a bit too far. Perhaps you should finish with your bath and get dressed. Dinner will be ready and then we must get ready to go to the masquerade ball with Ruban and Esperanza."

"I see no reason why we cannot flirt a bit longer," Erik smirked trying to pull her back, but she stepped back and out of his reach.

"No, Erik," she replied sternly and turned to walk out the door.

"Why?" he called, making her stop and turn around with wide eyes.

"Why?!" she enunciated and Erik took an involuntary step back at the look on her face. She looked somewhere between agitated and totally shocked.

"Because whenever I am in the same room with you I cannot speak for one reason or another!" she replied, and he started backing up as she slowly stepped toward him. "Because everything you do makes my heart pound in my chest and everything you say makes me blush! My thoughts are consumed with you, and no matter how hard I try, I cannot seem to get you out of my head! I know all of this is useless because you could never feel _anything_ for me! You are still in love with---!" She suddenly shouted with a start.

Erik had been so intent on getting away from her as she closed in on him that he had forgotten about the tub still filled with water. He backed right into it and before either of them knew what was happening he fell back gripping Beatrice's hand as he did and they landed with a splash into the tub with her on top of him.

Their eyes locked in surprise and it did not take long for Beatrice to notice that she was now drenched. Her shock turned to frustration as she scrambled out of the tub and gazed down at herself as Erik stared at her but did not move. Beatrice looked back at him and growled in rage then stormed out of the room, dripping down the hall the whole way.

Erik could not move. He was frozen by what she had said. Was it true? Did everything he do and say affect her in such a way? Did his mere presence cause her to be tongue-tied? More important than all of these, did she really think he did not feel that way of her? It was true that Christine was also on his mind but not as much as she had been as of late. _Beatrice_ was all he could think about.

He felt guilt overwhelm his senses. If she felt that way then he was not making things easier with the way he was acting, and if she _had_ seen him bathing then he was almost certain that she could not handle it well. Now he understood her reaction to him. She was embarrassed for feeling and thinking the way she did, and he was definitely _not_ helping.

Erik sighed, realizing that he was drenched…again, and struggled to get out of the tub. He quickly ran to the wardrobe and pulled out some dry clothes for himself and a dry gown for Beatrice. He had to apologize, even if she did not wish to speak to him, he had to try.



Beatrice stormed down the stairs and into the parlor. She was completely soaked, but that was not why she was enraged. She was angry at herself for saying all of that. Why had she told him that he affected her so? She had no right telling him that while he was still in love with Christine and held no tender affections for _her_ save friendship! But at the time, she couldn't help it. She had let her emotions get the best of her and now he was probably sitting in that tub laughing heartily over the fact that she had feelings for him. Her actions were enough to make herself sick. She sat herself on the floor in front of the fire that had been lit a moment ago and wrung out her hair.

"You are a fool, Beatrice!" she hissed to herself. "What makes you think he could _ever_ return your feelings?!"

"What makes you think I cannot?"

Beatrice froze and slowly turned to see the very man she had _not_ wished to see standing in the doorway into the parlor. His hands were behind is back and she knew he had something in them because he never usually did that unless he had something for her, but whatever it was, she didn't want it at the moment.

"I am not in the mood for your jokes and mockery at the moment, 'dear'," she snapped before he could say another word. "As you can see, I am in the middle of trying to dry myself off. I do not need any assistance from you so do not bother offering it!" She turned back toward the fire and once again started on her hair. She heard footsteps coming closer and she just wished he would go away. She did not want to deal with his rejection.

"I can see what you are trying to do," Erik replied, calmly as he stood next to her but made no move to sit. "That is the reason I brought this for you." She saw a dark sapphire blue gown float down to the floor beside her and Erik walked toward the sofa to sit. She stared at it for a moment before reaching out to it and picking it up. She looked at Erik over her shoulder as he sat and stared at her.

"Thank you," she said softly and stood to walk from the room with the dress. Before she passed the sofa Erik gripped her wrist lightly making her stop and look down into his gorgeous eyes that she saw were filled with guilt. She turned fully toward him and he stood, still gently holding her wrist so she would not get away.

"Why do you think I wish to be with you all of the time?" he wondered.

Beatrice frowned at his tone in confusion. It did not sound like he knew the answer. It was as though he truly wanted to know what she thought.

"Erik, I do not know why you wish to be with me," she answered honestly. "I can only assume it is because we are friends."

"If we are merely friends then why do I kiss you whenever the opportunity presents itself?" he continued. "Why is it that the very moment you walk into the room I wish to hold you in my arms?"

Beatrice's frown deepened. His tone had changed. He knew the answer to these questions and he wanted to see if she could figure it out.

"I do not know," she said, sincerely. "Tell me why, Erik."

"If it were that simple, I would," he replied.

Beatrice became upset again and yanked away from is hand.

"Why do you speak in riddles, Erik?!" she cried. She could feel the tears coming to her eyes, but she forced them down. He was toying with her. She knew it, and she would not have it.

"If I could tell you without you thinking me evil I would tell you!" Erik said, his tone pleading that she not run before he had time to explain. He nearly fell to his knees in an attempt to beg for her forgiveness, but his words had stopped her from fleeing the room and she was now staring at him in disbelief.

"Evil?" Beatrice breathed.

"The way you spoke earlier about my affect on you is similar to the one you have on me," he continued. "When you ask for something, my willpower fades away to nothing. When you are in the room I cannot keep myself from at least holding your hand in mine. I cannot, nor _will_ not mock your feelings because they are mine as well. Please, do not be upset with me, mon ange. Can you not see that I need you?"

He sounded so sad, so desperate. How could she refuse his apology? He knew he was not helping her feelings with his constant flirting that was merely in jest at some times, and he was apologizing for it. How could she stay upset with him when she could see he truly meant what he was saying?

Tears flooded her eyes and she let them fall. Erik made a move to hold her but stopped short, not knowing if she was still mad at him. She nodded her approval and he embraced her gently in his arms. She sobbed into his chest and he patted the back of her head to calm her, gently rocking her from side to side.

"I forgive you, and please, forgive _me_," Beatrice breathed between sobs.

"I told you before, mon cheri. You need not seek forgiveness from me, it is implied, no matter what you do," Erik replied. She said nothing for a moment, wanting to savor the feeling of is arms around her and comforting her.

"Do you truly feel that way for me?" she couldn't help but wonder. It seemed absolutely impossible to her that any man could care for her in any way. She looked up at him and their eyes locked as he looked down at her with a small smile.

"Yes," he whispered, meaning it more than she could ever imagine. A small smile crept to Beatrice's lips as well, and they gazed into each other's eyes for the longest time.

"You are so beautiful," Erik whispered, leaning toward her lips.

"You flatter me," she breathed back as he brushed his lips against hers lightly.

"No matter what you think of yourself you are still beautiful," he replied. Becoming impatient, Beatrice took his lower lip into her teeth making him groan in approval. One of his hands glided up to tangle itself in her hair and he pulled her head back gently to leave gentle kisses on her chin and neck as she let his lip go. She closed her eyes to savor the feeling of his lips on her skin and sighed in contentment.

"Erik!" she gasped as she felt his lips just above the neckline of her bodice. "You go a bit too far, mon bien-aimé." She felt his lips climb back up her chest.

"You should change out of this wet gown, cheri," he whispered, and pressed his lips to hers before she could respond. She moaned on his lips and dropped the dress she had been holding to pull him closer by his jacket collar as he pulled her closer as well in his arms. His tongue slowly made its way into her mouth and stroked hers gently. She did the same to his tongue making him smile on her lips. She would always amaze him with her passion when they kissed. Erik slowly pulled away and broke the kiss, making Beatrice groan in disappointment.

"You should get out of that wet gown," he repeated. His hands slipped around to her back and started pulling the laces of her of her bodice. Beatrice gasped and looked at him in shock.

"Erik---!"

"Trust me, mon ange," he whispered still untying her laces. "If you remember correctly, I have seen you in your undergarments before."

"But will you stop as far as that?" she wondered in worry. Their eyes met again and he smiled slightly.

"Did I not tell you to trust me?" he smirked. "I will go as far as you wish me to." He finished with her laces and rested his hands on her shoulders then gently pushed the sleeves down her arms. Her eyes never wavered from his as his hands ran down her arms and the gown fell to the floor, leaving her in her corset and petticoats.

"Erik…" Beatrice whimpered, unsure of herself. On the one hand, she wanted him in more ways than one, but it frightened her beyond belief to think that it would not happen because of what had happened to her so long ago that still haunted her dreams.

"Beatrice, I will not force you to do anything you do not wish to do," Erik murmured, as if he read her mind. "I would never hurt you that way. You mean too much to me."

"But Erik---"

"Here," he interrupted, bending down and picking up the dress she had dropped. "Put this on." Beatrice took the dress hesitantly and Erik helped her pull it over her head. As she pulled it completely on, he realized that he should have looked at the dress before bringing it to her.

The dark sapphire blue gown had an off the shoulder bodice with full sleeves that left the rest of her arms bare and met in front in a slight "V" neckline. Her still damp curls fell around her shoulders and Erik could not help but mentally kick himself for letting her get dressed. He pulled her hair in front of her covering one of her shoulders and turned her around to lace up her bodice.

Beatrice couldn't help the slight shiver she felt run down her spine at the gentle touch of Erik's fingers as he laced her dress up. She had wanted him to go further, but she knew she would have changed her mind as soon as he tried to unlace her corset. Her memories of what had happened to her were still fresh, even though it had happened nine years ago. However, she knew Erik was different, and would never hurt her, but she knew herself as well. She knew that they would get so far before she backed out at the last minute.

Erik finished tying the laces of her bodice and slid his arms around her. Beatrice leaned back into his embrace, laying her head on his shoulder and closing her eyes.

"Are you comfortably dry now, mon petite?" he murmured into her ear.

"Yes," she smiled, even though her undergarments were a bit wet and her hair was still damp. "Shall we have dinner before changing…again?"

"If you wish," he chuckled slightly. "I am sure that Ruban and Esperanza will have food at the ball, will they not?"

"Wine perhaps, but I highly doubt they would have food when there will be dancing," Beatrice said, leaning her head to the side slightly. Erik took the hint, and began leaving tender kisses on her neck and shoulder.

"You never know, cheri," he replied between kisses. "But we will have dinner anyway. Just in case."


	19. Masquerade!

**A/N: **I'm sorry, but you can't have a Phantom fanfic without a Masquerade, it's blasphemy if you don't. Nice little twist coming up, just to warn you. Not telling you anything but that. To all fans of this story, thank you for reading!

_**Chapter 19: Masquerade!**_

"Beatrice! I am becoming impatient with you! How long does it take to get dressed?!" Erik wondered as he paced outside the dressing screen that she was dressing behind. He was already in his costume for the ball and Ruban and Esperanza were to pick them up any minute. What in Lord's name was taking her so long?!

"I am nearly finished, darling," she replied calmly, making him sigh.

Part of him was impatient to get to the ball, but most of him wanted her to hurry so that he could see how gorgeous she looked. Seeing the dress on the dummy had proved that the outfit was beautiful, but as he imagined Beatrice wearing it, he could see that the entire ensemble would be the talk of Madrid for at least a month.

He finally stopped pacing and his foot started tapping impatiently. He couldn't help but wonder if she was purposely taking longer than usual because she wanted to tease him. It would be like Beatrice to know how he felt for her and then take advantage of that at every opportunity presented. Then again, _he_ had done that on several occasions to _her_. Yes, he deserved it if that was the case now.

Something else was bothering him at the moment as well. When they had been in the parlor and he was unlacing her dress, she had been afraid. She hadn't been afraid of him, he knew that, but in her eyes he had seen fear of herself and uncertainty. What had happened, he wondered, to cause her to fear that way? Would she tell him if he asked? Did he want to know? Had someone hurt her? That thought made his fists clench. No one would hurt Beatrice and get away with it. He knew he shouldn't have felt that way, but he did, and there was nothing he could do about---

"Oh, God," he breathed when Beatrice came out from behind the screen. Her head was held high, her hands were clasped in front of her and she had a small smile on her lips. The gown was a stunning contrast to her snow white skin and it shaped her perfectly: defining her curve and flaring at her hips. The neck line was off the shoulder and it seemed as though her chest was going to spill out over the top, which Erik had to admit he didn't mind. The tiara sat perfectly in her hair, and she had found a small bandit mask to wear over her eyes which Erik thought she could have done without because it hid her adorable freckles.

For the longest moment, Erik couldn't move, and simply stared at her as if she was a dream and if he blinked she would be gone. Beatrice cleared her throat, softly, jolting him back to reality. He shook away his trance and held out his arm with a small smile. She nodded and slid her hand through his, loving the chill that ran down her spine as she did.

There was a comfortable silence between them as they made their way to the front door. Neither one of them needed to say anything because they knew the other thought they looked fabulous. Beatrice could not help but glance at Erik several times, wanting to take in every detail of him. She especially liked the way the shirt and jacket exposed some of his bronzed chest, and wished she could just reach out and touch it for a moment, but knew that it would not be lady-like, and who knew what Erik would do?

As they reached the exit, they saw Ruban and Esperanza climbing out of their carriage into the dark night that was only illuminated by the soft moonlight. Esperanza embraced Beatrice fiercely then held the woman at arms length to see how she looked.

"You look gorgeous, Beatrice!" the Spanish beauty gasped. Even in the moonlight, Erik could see her blush, and he gently took her hand in his to assure her that he thought the same.

"And _you_ look absolutely stunning, Esperanza," the red-head replied. Esperanza smiled and curtsied then spun around, showing off every bit of her pirate-wench gown. She grinned at Beatrice through a golden yellow mask with white lace around its edges that matched the dress perfectly.

"She talked you into it, did she?" Erik smirked at Ruban who was in his _very_ authentic pirate costume with a dark blue mask over his eyes and a look of slight agitation on his face.

"Yes, she did," he nodded.

"You look positively handsome, Ruban," Beatrice smiled, reassuringly, understanding that _no one_ could say no to his wife. Ruban nodded his thanks and gestured to the carriage.

"Shall we?" he entreated and the four piled into the carriage.



_Masquerade_

_Every face a different shade_

_Masquerade_

_Look around there's another mask behind you_

Erik twirled Beatrice across the floor as she laughed and ran back to him. The ball had been going for hours, and Erik had been doing nothing but be attentive to Beatrice and thinking about how he should tell her how he _truly_ felt. He loved her, and he knew he _had_ to tell her. He would not do what he did to Christine. He couldn't. Besides, this was different! Beatrice cared for him too, even if she hadn't admitted it fully yet, and he was sure of it, after all, it had come from her own mouth.

"Erik?"

He shot a look at Beatrice as they still danced and he held her in his arms.

"What is it, mon cheri?" he smiled in a murmur.

"I am having a marvelous time," she admitted with a wide smile.

"As am I, dearest," he whispered and pulled her close to him. She rested her head on his chest and his cheek rested itself on the top of her head. "I would not be if I were with anyone else," he admitted, and felt her smile.

"I am sure _that_ is not true, Erik," she chuckled. "If you had been with someone else, I think you would have a fine time."

"No," he replied flatly, and he knew exactly where this could lead. His confession. "No, I believe that I would be miserable without you, Beatrice."

She lifted her head and looked up at him with a frown of confusion across her brow.

"What do you mean?" she wondered.

"I mean that---" Erik was cut off when he bumped into someone behind him. He turned to apologize to the person, but she was the quicker.

"I am so sorry, mons---!" The woman stopped mid-sentence when she looked up at Erik and his sea-green eyes locked with her chocolate browns. She was dressed as a blue fairy princess, with matching wings and a mask that covered her eyes. He would know that face, those eyes, that hair, and that voice anywhere.

"Christine?" he breathed in disbelief.

"Erik…" she breathed back in realization. Beatrice watched in horror as she, too, realized that it _was_ Christine. What was she doing here?! There was nothing but silence between the three and Beatrice felt a sudden urge to get Erik away from her. There was no doubt in her mind that this would only make things worse.

She was about to pull at Erik's arm and lead him away when Christine fled the opposite direction. Without a word or a moment's hesitation, Erik ran after her, and Beatrice ran after him. Christine weaved in and out of dancing couples with Erik gaining on her and Beatrice following behind.

So many questions were running through Erik's mind. Why was she here? Why had she fled? Why was _he_ running after her? Where was Raoul? This last question put him on guard and though he kept a close eye on Christine, he was also searching for the viscount. If _she_ was here, then he could not have been far away either.

Christine ran into the garden outside the hacienda and Erik was about to grip her wrist when he heard a shriek of fright call his name behind him.

"Erik!" Beatrice cried, and he stopped dead, spinning around to see where she was. His fists clenched at the sight before him. Raoul held her with one arm around her waist and held a sword at Erik in the other hand, a triumphant grin on his smug face. Erik should have known he would go after Beatrice to keep him from Christine.

"We meet again," Raoul smirked, coolly. "It seems now the tables have turned."

"Let her go, Chagny!" Erik growled, taking a step toward him. With a flick of his wrist Raoul held the blade to Beatrice's throat, making Erik stop his advance. He looked at Beatrice to see her reaction to all of this, but she was glaring in seething hatred at her captor.

"Raoul!" Christine gasped behind Erik, but he did not turn to see her wide-eyed in disbelief at the scene, he was intent on Beatrice. "What do you think you are doing?!"

"This monster has plagued us for the last time!" Raoul spat, staring Erik down. "I will not let him harm you anymore, Christine."

"You call _him_ the monster, yet _you_ are the one holding a blade to the throat of a lady!" Beatrice hissed at him. Raoul looked down in surprise at her words then lowered the sword away from her neck. "I am glad to see that your chivalry has returned!"

Erik couldn't help but smile slightly at Beatrice telling off Raoul. She was doing more than he could do at the moment.

"And to think I once found you attractive," Raoul shot back in a harsh whisper. He was trying to get her back for her comments, but she wasn't going to have it.

"Forgive me when I say that the feeling was _never_ mutual!" she retorted with a disgusted look. He growled and shoved her back at Erik. She stumbled into his arms and he quickly caught her and stood her up, pulling her close to him.

"Are you alright?" he hoped in a whisper.

"I am fine," she whispered back, snuggling a bit closer to him.

"You have haunted us for the last time!" Raoul growled. "Say good-bye to your wench and prepare to die!"

"Raoul! No!" Christine shouted in horror and Beatrice shot a terrified look at Erik. He shoved Beatrice in Christine's direction as Raoul charged toward him and she stumbled into the other woman.

"Erik!" Beatrice screamed and tried to run toward them to break up the fight, but Christine held her back.

"Beatrice! Do not be a fool!" Christine struggled. "You will be hurt!"

"I do not care!" Beatrice cried as tears formed in her eyes. "Let me go!"

"Beatrice! Think logically!" Beatrice stopped and spun around to stare Christine down, her anger boiling away the tears in her eyes.

"Alright," she hissed. "Thinking logically, I would have to blame _you_ for this situation we find ourselves in!" A sword clanged behind her but she paid no attention as she allowed her emotions to take over her will again. "If it had not been for _you_ Erik would have been happy! Tell me, Christine, did you kiss him out of curiosity, to save Raoul's life, or because you truly loved Erik?!"

Christine stared at Beatrice in total disbelief as they heard Raoul growl in anger and lunge at Erik.

"Beatrice…" Christine breathed. "You love him."

"That has nothing to do with my question!" Beatrice spat. "Answer me!" They jumped when they heard a shout in agonizing pain. Beatrice whirled around, praying it had been Raoul and not her masked man. She cried out in dismay when she saw Erik on the ground holding his right shoulder, the hand that coddled it soaked with blood.

"No…" Christine breathed. Beatrice went pale when she saw Raoul lift his sword in the air.

"Now, you will be out of our lives forever," Raoul said through clenched teeth.

"Erik!" Beatrice screamed as she ran toward him. She threw herself onto Erik, being as careful as she could not to hurt him any more.

"Move out of the way so I can rid us of him!" Raoul demanded and Beatrice glared over her shoulder at him with a look that could have sent daggers to his heart.

"If you touch him I will kill you with my own two hands!" she growled, making him look at her in disbelief and take an involuntary step back.

"Raoul," Christine called and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. He looked at her with wide eyes. "We should go."

"Christine, have you gone mad?!" Raoul wondered breathlessly.

"I did not want this to happen, Raoul, you know that," she replied. "Do not make this any worse."

Raoul glanced back at Erik and Beatrice on the ground then back at Christine. He couldn't say no to her. He nodded and sheathed his sword then looked at Erik.

"The next time we meet, _nothing_ will stop me from killing you," he hissed at him, and Erik and Beatrice looked at him again as he walked away, throwing his arm around Christine's shoulders and leading her away. Christine looked back at the two before re-entering the house. Erik groaned in pain and Beatrice snapped her attention back to him.

"Oh, Erik," she breathed.

"I am fine, cheri," he strained. "It is merely a flesh wound."

"Do not jest, Erik!" Beatrice began sobbing. "You are severely injured!"

Erik's brow furrowed and he lifted his left hand to stroke the tears from her cheeks that began to fall.

"Do not cry, little one," he murmured. "I will be fine."

"Erik, what can I do to help you?" she sobbed. "Please, tell me."

"For the moment, you can stop crying, mon ange," he smiled.

"Damn you, Erik!" she sobbed hitting her fist to the ground next to him. "Why did you have to run after her?!"

Erik sighed and let his head rest on the ground beneath him.

"I have been asking myself that since I went after her," he admitted. Beatrice stared at him in disbelief. She hadn't expected him to say _that_.

"Oh my God!"

Erik and Beatrice looked up to see Ruban and Esperanza standing not too far away from them. Beatrice stood up and ran toward them.

"Erik is hurt," she gasped and yanked Ruban by the hand toward Erik. "Please! Ruban, you must help! He will bleed to death if we do not get him to a doctor!"

"No!" Erik strained from his place, trying to sit up. "Not a doctor!"

Beatrice knelt down next to Erik and helped him sit up.

"Erik, you need a doctor," she insisted gently.

"No doctors!" Erik growled. "Just take me home!"

"We will take you to your hacienda in our carriage," Ruban said, pulling Erik to his feet carefully.

"But---"

"No doctors!" Erik growled again with the little strength he had.

"No doctors, Erik," Ruban assured him giving Beatrice a look that told her to drop the subject. Esperanza took Beatrice's hands as Ruban walked Erik across the garden.

"We'll go out the back way," Esperanza said, pulling Beatrice along. "We would not want anyone to panic, would we?"

Beatrice gave a slight smile at the other woman.

"Beatrice, what happened?"

The red-head looked at Esperanza with wide eyes. She couldn't tell her. As much as she wanted to, she couldn't tell her. It would take all night!

"I wish I could tell you, Esperanza," she said as honestly as she could. "I do not know what exactly happened myself. I lost Erik for a moment and when I came out here to look for him, I found him like this."

Esperanza looked at Beatrice in evaluation. She was hiding something, but what, she couldn't be sure. The four of them reached the carriage and Ruban sat Erik down inside then let Beatrice climb in.

"You know where they live," he told the servant driving the carriage. "Take them as quickly and carefully as possible."

"We wish we could go with you," Esperanza said as she closed the door.

"You have your guests," Beatrice nodded. "Thank you for your help so far."

"Go!" Ruban shouted at the servant, and Erik and Beatrice were off. Beatrice closed the curtains on either side of the carriage and pulled her skirt up to show her petticoats.

"I do not understand why you will not see a doctor," she muttered, wrestling with her skirts.

"Doctors ask too many questions," Erik replied, as if that answered everything.

"That is their job, Erik," Beatrice retorted, finding one of her skirts. "If they are to treat a patient, they must know what happened to them, their ailments, and everything else they ask about." There was a ripping sound and Erik shot a wide eyed look at what Beatrice was doing.

"What the hell are you doing?!" he demanded.

"We need to stop the bleeding in your shoulder before you bleed to death," Beatrice replied, placing a strip of her petticoats on his shoulder. "Erik, I cannot believe how stubborn you are!"

"Well, get used to it," Erik shot back. "I will not change no matter how much you try!"

"You say that, but if you remember correctly, you have changed a bit since meeting me," she smiled, blotting at his wound.

"No I have not," he argued.

"Maybe you are right," Beatrice smiled, knowing _she_ was right.



_Later that night..._

Erik winced in pain as Beatrice tried to clean the stab wound in his shoulder as gently as possible. When they had arrived at the hacienda, Beatrice had gotten him to the master bedroom then out of his jacket then into the bed. Now she sat dabbing a wet cloth on his shoulder to seep up the blood that seemed to never end.

"We need to get this wound stitched up," Beatrice said softly. "A doctor can---"

"No doctors, Beatrice," Erik interrupted sternly. "I told you that I do not know how many times already."

"I know Erik, but—"

"Do you know how to sew?" Erik wondered.

"Yes, but---"

"You can sew the wound."

"Would you allow me to finish a sentence for once?!" Beatrice shouted making Erik shoot a wide eyed look of surprise at her. "A doctor would do all of this properly. He could clean the wound and sew it and make sure it does not become infected and---"

"Beatrice."

"What?!"

"You are still wearing your mask."

Beatrice lifted her hand to her face and ripped her mask off then pulled the tiara out of her hair.

"There!" she shouted. "Now I have taken off my mask _and_ my tiara. _Now_ will you go see a doctor?!"

"No."

"Erik! You are the most stubborn man in the history of…men! What must I do to get you to see a doctor?! Do you wish for me to yell at you?! Must I beg you?!"

"Beatrice."

"Now what?!"

"Stop talking."

"Why?!"

Erik used his uninjured arm to pull her by the wrist toward him. Her lips landed on his and she squeaked in surprise with her eyes wide in shock. Her eyes fluttered shut as she savored the feeling of his lips on hers. He ran his tongue along the seam of her lips and she slightly opened her mouth. But when she felt his tongue start to slowly slip into her mouth she gasped and her eyes shot open as she pushed away from him.

"No!" she yelled, shaking her head violently and backing away from the bed. "You will not seduce me into dropping this subject! You must see a doctor!"

"Beatrice," he called. "Calm down."

"How can _you_ be so calm while _I_ am yelling at you?!"

"You have no idea how jealous I was when I saw Raoul's arm around you," Erik replied taking Beatrice aback. "I admit this freely if it is the only way for you to sit next to me and take care of my shoulder. That is all I want. No doctor can do that for me the way you can."

"But Erik---"

"I will interrupt you one last time to tell you that I _am_ injured and cannot handle the stress of an argument right now."

Beatrice stared at him for a moment then sighed and walked toward him.

"This is not over," she said, cleaning his wound again. "You are still very stubborn."

"This is far from over, cheri," he smiled, laying his head back on the pillow. They were silent for a moment before Beatrice spoke again, glancing at him once.

"Were you truly jealous at seeing me near Raoul?" she couldn't help but wonder.

"I am surprised I did not turn green," Erik chuckled slightly, making Beatrice smile, but something else was nagging at her mind.

"Erik?"

"Yes?"

"Why did you go after Christine when she fled?" Erik didn't say anything for a moment, nor did he make a move. As Beatrice stared at him, waiting for an answer, she saw in his eyes that he was trying very hard to figure out the answer to her question. She remembered asking him in the garden, and he had not known the answer, but now he had more time to think about it and answer properly.

"I wanted to know why," he suddenly breathed and Beatrice looked at him in surprise. "I wanted to know why she was there. Why she was running from me. I wanted to simply talk to her, even though I knew _that_ would not work…" He let himself trail off, not really knowing where he was going with this. Beatrice looked at him in sorrow, but resumed cleaning his wound.

"Erik?" she said timidly, and he looked at her. "I want you to promise me that if you ever see her again, you will not pursue her."

Erik stared at her in disbelief. Was she jealous? She might have had a right to be, but she shouldn't have been anyway. Then again, Erik never did tell her he loved her.

"May I ask what has prompted this request?" he wondered and she glanced at him for a second.

"If Christine is around, then Raoul is not far behind," she replied coolly. "I do not want _this_ to happen again." She felt tears start to well up in her eyes. "And I cannot bear to see you killed." She sniffled, trying not to cry but not being able to keep herself from doing so at the thought of Erik dying. She jumped slightly when Erik touched her hand on his chest and their eyes met.

"I thank you for your concern, mon cheri," he murmured. "I swear I will not pursue her. No matter how much I may wish it, I will do no such thing out of my fear of losing _you_." He lifted her hand to his mouth and pressed a soft, lingering kiss on the back of her hand. He was trying, and she could see it. She would never give up hope that he could make room in his heart to love another. Not only love another, but love _her_ as she loved him.

"_What makes you think he will love you?_" Beatrice's subconscious taunted her. "_You are nothing but a scrawny girl with a fantasy of love. He could never truly love you._"

"Beatrice?" Erik called, snapping her out of her thoughts.

"Yes, Erik?" she smiled.

"Would you sing for me?"

Beatrice stared at Erik in total sock. Why would he want to hear _her_ sing? Apparently he was disoriented from his loss of blood. He thought she was Christine, surely!

"I have heard you humming to Ramses," Erik explained, as if he was reading her mind. "I wish to hear your _true_ voice."

"_True_ voice?" Beatrice frowned in confusion.

"When you sing, that is your _true_ voice," Erik explained. "It expresses what you truly feel."

Beatrice smiled sweetly at Erik. He was so predictable. Leave it to him to relate _everything_ to music and singing, and it was something she adored about him.

"What would you like me to sing?" she said, resuming her cleaning his wound.

"Whatever you wish," he murmured, laying his head back on the pillow. Their eyes met and Beatrice felt her breath catch slightly then cleared her throat.

"I will sing for you," she smiled. "But you must do something for _me_."

Erik frowned not liking the way there seemed to be a mischievous sparkle in her eye.

"What?" he asked cautiously. Beatrice simply smiled and leaned toward him. He didn't move as her hand slid to his mask and she slowly pulled it off.

"I do not want there to be any barriers between us," she whispered. "You know I do not fear your face, or find it repulsive."

"I know," Erik breathed. "It is simply a habit."

"A habit that will be broken soon as long as we are together," she retorted. Beatrice dipped the cloth she was cleaning his wound with in the bowl filled with water on the nightstand.

"Now that you have taken off my mask, will you sing for me?" Erik wondered. Beatrice giggled and nodded. "Sing something…soothing."

"Your wish is my command, Sir," she smirked. She took a few deep breaths and thought hard about a song to calm Erik's troubled mind.

_Laying alone with the history that made you cold and uncertain inside_

_Careful now, deep breath, the water's still rising_

_But your silver lining's in sight_

Erik glanced at her a moment and Beatrice simply smiled as she wet his wound again.

_When you feel like you're breaking down_

_And your body's just giving in_

_And you can't go on broken like this any longer_

Erik sighed and closed his eyes to savor the sound of Beatrice's voice. It was as beautiful as he thought she would sound.

_Close you eyes_

_Don't you cry_

_Let the sorrow within you subside_

_Don't despair_

_Have no fear_

_Give your weight to me when you have this lullaby_

Erik's hand rose and placed itself on the one that was tending his wound. Beatrice looked at him and felt relieved when she saw how relaxed he was and the smile that was creeping to his face.

_You say all seems so wrong with the life that you're living_

_You're searching for some reason why _

_You're so scared to trust, you're feeling unworthy_

_Aching for comfort tonight_

Beatrice placed her hand on his and moved closer to him so that he could hear her a bit better.

_When your heart's too sore to beat_

_And you fear it might never heal_

_And you feel not even beggars want you_

_I do_

Erik sighed again and turned his face toward her to hear her better, and Beatrice couldn't help but smile at him.

_Close your eyes_

_Don't you cry_

_Let the sorrow within you subside_

_Don't despair_

_Have no fear_

_Give your weight to me when you hear this lullaby_

Beatrice lifted her hand and stroked some hair from Erik's face then rested that hand on his hairline, unable to believe how peaceful he looked in that moment.

_Close your eyes_

_Don't you cry_

_Let the sorrow within you subside_

_Don't despair_

_Have no fear_

_Give your weight to me when you hear this lullaby_

_Don't you cry_

_Let the darkness within you feel light_

_Don't despair_

_Have no fear_

_You'll find comfort in me like a child with this lullaby_

Beatrice smiled at the peaceful, now sleeping man before her. She had always wondered why lovers stared at each other when the other was sleeping, and now she understood why. Staring at Erik peacefully sleeping made _her_ feel peaceful. As if she could stay in that moment forever. But snapping herself back to reality, she realized that some things had to be done.

First, she had to write to Madame Giry and Meg telling them what she and Erik were up to. She also had some questions for Antoinette that she would not let rest until she got answers.

Then, there was finding out why Raoul and Christine had been at the ball. She knew exactly who to ask about that. It was _Ruban's_ party, and she was sure he had compiled the guest list personally.

Beatrice was jolted from her thoughts when Erik stirred slightly and she glanced at his wound, realizing it needed to be sewn up. She didn't want to wake him, but it had to be done. She straightened and reluctantly pulled her hands away from Erik then pulled open the drawer of the nightstand. There sat a needle and thread, ready for use.

"_I wish I had some way to keep him from feeling that pain_," she thought with a sigh. "_He is __not__ going to wake up happy_."



Erik's eyes shot open when he felt something prick him on his shoulder and he growled in pain. He looked to where Beatrice was sitting but she looked very occupied with his arm and didn't look at him.

"What the hell---?!" His question was cut short when he felt another prick on the other side of his wound and he growled again.

"I am sewing up your wound," Beatrice replied, not looking at him.

"Is there nothing to dull the pain?!" Erik asked through clenched teeth.

"_You_ were the one who did not want to see a doctor," she retorted. "And since I am no doctor, I would not know what to give you to dull the pain."

"Cognac, whiskey, scotch!" Erik replied.

"To dull the pain, or your senses?" Beatrice smirked.

"Both!" Erik shot back. Beatrice sighed and placed her fingers on his lips.

"Stop talking," she demanded gently. "And stop moving. You will only make it harder for me to do this." She pulled her hand away and turned back to her work, leaving Erik to stare at her in surprise.

He had no idea how much it had effected him when her fingers touched his lips. When her fingers had been there it took everything in him to fight the urge to gently grasp them in his mouth and nibble at them. He had to tell her that he loved her soon, or it would consume him inside and out and he would surely go mad from it.

"What shall I tell Madame Giry and Meg when I write to them?" Beatrice asked Erik, still stitching up is wound. Erik winced as he was jolted back to reality.

"What?"

"Is there anything you would like me to tell them?" Beatrice rephrased.

"Such as?" Erik wondered.

"How you are fairing," Beatrice replied, knotting the thread after the last stitch.

"What would it matter?" Erik asked sarcastically. "They do not care about how I am fairing."

"That is not true," Beatrice replied, calmly, but inside she was slapping him for thinking such a thing. "I am sure that Madame Giry is worried about your well-being."

"Tell her nothing of Christine and Raoul being here," he said quickly and Beatrice frowned in confusion at him. "She does not need to know about it."

"I thought that would be a must," Beatrice replied. "The whole ordeal is certainly important news!"

"No, Beatrice!" Erik growled, taking Beatrice aback at his tone. "Do not tell her!"

Beatrice stared at Erik with wide eyes as he turned his head away from her.

"It is late. I will be fine now. You should get some rest."

Beatrice stood and ran behind the dressing screen, not wanting him to see the tears that were starting to form in her eyes. He had never yelled at her for something as trivial as this before. Surely Madame Giry would want to know if they had ran into Raoul or Christine, and what had happened? It didn't make sense to Beatrice that Erik would want to keep such things from Antoinette, unless there was more to it than that.

More secrets! Beatrice was becoming so tired of secrets! Whether it was keeping them or finding out about them, it was wearing her out. She used to be the type of girl who loved keeping secrets of hearing about them, but now they were getting on her nerves. It was so tiresome to keep _her_ secrets, and Erik's secrets, and she was sure she would die from exhaustion.

Beatrice sighed and began to change out of her gown and into her nightgown. She had just slipped the dress off when she heard groaning from the other side of the screen. She peeked around the screen to see Erik sitting up on the edge of the bed.

"Erik!" she gasped, running out from behind the screen. "What do you think you are doing?!"

"I was going to change," Erik groaned trying to ignore the fact the Beatrice was only wearing her undergarments. She sighed and shook her head.

"You silly man!" she sighed. "Let me help you."

"I can do this myself," Erik retorted, not liking her tone.

"Is that why you were groaning in pain?" Beatrice laughed slightly. "I may be a woman, but I _am_ useful."

Erik glanced at her then looked at his right arm hanging limply on the bed.

"Very well," he groaned. "You may help."

Beatrice smiled, but did not rub his vulnerable state in his face. She knew he hated the fact that he couldn't really do anything at the moment without help.

Beatrice pulled his shirt off of him, being careful not to make him move his arm and threw it on the bed.

"I am sorry," he whispered, and she looked at him in surprise.

"For what?" she frowned in confusion.

"I did not mean to growl at you the way did," he whispered so softly she nearly couldn't hear him. "I made an agreement with Antoinette that I would not go after Christine. That I would try to forget her." Erik wrapped his good arm around Beatrice's waist and pulled her close. "Promise you will not tell her. _Swear_ it."

Beatrice ran her hand through his hair as she looked down at him, his eyes silently pleading with her.

"I swear, dearest," she smiled warmly, and Erik sighed in relief.

"Thank you, mon ange," he breathed, snuggling the side of his head to her stomach. "She would never forgive me."

"I doubt that," Beatrice smiled, playing with a bit of his hair. "But I will not tell her nonetheless."

Erik lifted his head and his eyes locked with hers. He ran his hand up her back and pulled her face closer to his. Her eyes closed as she gave a slight smile and wrapped her arms around his neck.

Erik wanted nothing more than to wrap both his arms around her and smother her mouth with hot passionate kisses, but for now, he would have to settle with what his body, and Beatrice, would let him get away with.

Beatrice giggled when she gave him an Eskimo kiss and his arm wrapped around her waist again. Before she knew what she was doing, at impulse, she straddled Erik's legs by placing her knees on the bed on either side of him, taking him aback at the action. She brushed her lips against his, tauntingly, and smiled wider when she felt Erik pull her closer.

"Rather frisky tonight?" Erik wondered, still trying to understand why she was, indeed, being so forward.

"You are at _my_ mercy now," she smiled, hinting at the fact that he couldn't do much with his arm. "You are _always_ teasing _me_. Now, it is _my_ turn to tease _you_."

"You little vixen!" Erik growled, more attracted to her than he ever had been before. "You would seek revenge on me when I am this vulnerable?!"

"What better time to do so?" Beatrice murmured. "Every other time you would still have one up on me, and now you do not."

"You are wicked," Erik whispered, harshly.

"I see that it is working," Beatrice smirked. "But I am not as cold you are."

She pressed her lips to his gently making Erik pull her closer still. He lunged his tongue into her mouth and she allowed his tongue to explore every inch of her mouth. She loved the way she could lose herself just by letting him kiss her, and she hoped he felt the same. Her hands slid down to is bare chest, and she was careful not to touch is wound as she ran her hands over his body. Erik groaned and couldn't keep himself from gathering her lower lip into his teeth and gently biting it. She moaned in approval and in response to her sound he sucked on her lip. She pulled away slowly, but Erik held onto her lip gently, not wanting the kiss to end.

"Enjoy that?" Erik wondered with a smirk. Beatrice licked her lips with a smile.

"Need you ask?" she retorted.

"We should go to sleep," Erik smiled and Beatrice nodded. "You should get changed."

Beatrice frowned then blushed when she realized she was in her undergarments. She stood up and darted behind the dressing screen to change into her nightgown.

Erik smiled and struggled to lie back in the bed then lifted his uninjured arm to cradle the back of his head in it, a satisfied smile on his face.

"_I will tell her tomorrow_," he thought. "_Tomorrow will be a day she will never forget_."

**A/N: **The song I used was Lullaby by Emmy Rossum...(aka Christine in POTO! Check out her CD: Inside Out!)


	20. Letters and a Question

**A/N: **No criticism on the opera mentioned, please. No I haven't seen it, and I'm sorry if it wasn't around during this time period.

_**Chapter 20: Letters and a Question**_

_Dear Meg,_

_I am so sorry I have taken so long to write! Things have been a bit hectic, what with finding a place to live and all. Erik and I have made friends with a wonderful couple here._

_Ruban and Esperanza have been married for three years, and Ruban is the patron of an opera house here, much to Erik's delight. These people are so wonderful! They have given us one of their villas here in Madrid that they hardly use anymore, and that is where we are now. Esperanza reminds me of you, Meg. She is always so cheerful and lively!_

_Tell me, has Madame Emerson come to call on me for my piano lessons? If she has, tell her I am in Spain with a friend who is keeping up my tutoring. I would not want her to think my talent is suffering because I am away. Yes, Erik is tutoring me in playing the piano. He purchased one, and we have our lessons every day. He says I am getting quite good at it. Better than the first time he heard me._

_Honestly, Meg, I do not see why you are so frightened of Erik! He has been so attentive and kind to me. He buys me things and makes sure I am well at all times. He cares for me, and I for him. As a matter of fact, I love him. He and I have spent so much time together that we have grown attached, and __I__ have fallen in love with him!_

_Erik can be so loving when we pretend to be husband and wife in public, but after some turn of events which he has begged me not to reveal, I fear that perhaps he might start to drift from me. I cannot bear losing him. I know we are not __truly__ married, but my heart clenches at the thought of losing him to a certain person---_

"Beatrice?"

Beatrice jumped and looked up from the letter she had been writing to see Erik standing in the doorway to the study. It had been at least a week since he had been stabbed by Raoul and his wound had healed wonderfully, only leaving a scar as a memory of the turn of unfortunate events.

"Yes, Erik?"

"What are you doing?" he wondered walking toward her as she sat still.

"I am writing to Meg and Madame Giry," she replied, pulling the paper off of the desk and placing it in her lap to keep him from catching even a glimpse of what she had written.

"May I read it when you are through?" he smirked, seeing her action.

"No," she replied flatly. "But do not worry, darling. I have not written anything that will reveal your _true_ self to them." She smirked back at him and he leaned forward on the desk.

"Well, as long as you do not smudge my good name," he replied sarcastically. "I suppose I do not _have_ to monitor your conversations with the two of them. I only ask one thing."

"And what, prey tell, would that be?" Beatrice wondered, not knowing if she really wanted to know. Erik walked around the desk and Beatrice quickly placed the unfinished letter in a drawer making Erik's smirk widen. He took one of her hands and guided her to stand up as he looked deeply into her eyes.

"I want you to kiss me," he whispered.

Beatrice smiled and Erik wrapped his arms around her waist as their lips met. She wrapped her arms around his neck and ran her fingers through his hair to deepen the kiss as much as possible. They pulled each other closer as Beatrice maneuvered her tongue into is mouth to explore it. A chill ran up her spine as his tongue stroked hers before he slowly broke the kiss and looked her face over.

"Thank you, cheri," he whispered. "I always enjoy capturing your lips at every opportunity."

"As I can see," Beatrice smirked. "You do it so well."

Erik grinned and hugged her before letting her go and walking toward the door.

"I shall leave you to your writing," he smiled, closing the door behind him. Beatrice sighed and sat back in the chair then quickly pulled the letter she was writing out and read it over.

_I know we are not __truly__ married, but my heart clenches at the thought of losing him to a certain person._

_Oh, yes. As I am writing this letter, I now __know__ I am in love with Erik. I have known for some time, and I will tell him soon. I just do not know how to tell him._

_Tell me, Meg, are you well? I miss seeing you every day. And, tell me, have you spoken to Christine lately?_

_Sincerely,_

_Beatrice_

Beatrice blew over the ink from the pen to dry it before she placed the letter in its envelope. She then slid the letter in its envelope and sealed it with wax, stamping her seal onto it. She set the letter aside to prepare to send it later then prepared a piece of paper for another letter.

_Dear Madame Giry,_

_I am sorry I have taken so long to write. Things have been rather busy with Erik and I trying to find a place to live, which we have. I am sure Meg will tell you everything that I have told her about Erik and I, there are some things I must ask you about. As you know, I do not like to drag things out, so I will simply ask you and be done with it._

_Captain Krystal Robyn has told me that you were her care-taker as you were mine and Erik's. She has also told me that you did not want any of us to know of each other. My question is, why? Why would you keep all of us from knowing how wonderful and interesting we all are? I know you do not do anything without a reason, and I would be content with at least knowing that reason. I need no explanation, just to know what it is._

_When I spoke to Krystal she advised me to ask you these questions because she obviously does not know. I also sense that there was something that she was holding back from me, but if she could not tell me, I will not ask you what it could be. Please, do not be upset with Krystal about this. I talked her into telling me how she knew of Erik and I, and believe me, it was very hard to get the information from her!_

_Tell me, are you well? I miss you and Meg dearly, and I hope that one of us can visit the other soon. Please, write back to me soon, and tell Meg to do the same._

_Sincerely,_

_Beatrice_

_P.S. Erik has helped me be rid of my fear of storms! I do believe I would never be able to sleep through them now without Erik's help!_

Beatrice read the letter over quickly and nodded in approval at what it said then prepared it for postage. As she sealed the letter, she thought of what Madame Giry might say in response to all of this. She may not respond at all, and if that were to happen, Beatrice would quickly write another letter saying she understood her lack of response to mean that her request for answers was rejected. However, Beatrice prayed that it wouldn't happen that way.

Beatrice quickly prepared the two letters and ran from the study to look for Diego, the letters in hand. She found him in the kitchen with one of the maids, Isabella, and smiled when she noticed that he was being rather flirtatious.

"Diego?" she called, gently. The man servant looked up at Beatrice with frightened dark brown eyes and stood at attention next to Isabella.

"Yes, Señora?" he nodded as Beatrice walked toward him.

"I want you to mail these letters when you have the opportunity to do so, please," Beatrice smiled, handing him the letters.

"Yes, Señora," he nodded, stuffing the letters into the inside pocket of his jacket. "I shall do so right away." He moved to walk past Beatrice but she gripped his upper-arm, stopping him in his tracks.

"You misunderstand me, Diego," she murmured as their eyes met. "I said, 'When you have the opportunity,' not at this very minute."

Diego frowned in confusion at her, and she simply glanced toward Isabella who stood at the sink washing the dishes. Their eyes met again and Diego nodded in understanding as Beatrice smiled warmly at him.

"Of course, Señora," he nodded again, smirking as he walked back toward Isabella. "I am so sorry for the misunderstanding."

"Never mind," Beatrice smirked back. "Just be sure not to _forget_."

"I promise, Señora," Diego replied as he leaned on the counter next to Isabella, and Beatrice noticed the maid stiffen slightly. Beatrice smiled with a nod and walked back into the hall.

She had known for some time that Diego and Isabella had been having secret rendezvous' any chance they could get away from their duties, and she encouraged the relationship, even if this was her first time contributing to it. She had seen Isabella go about her duties, and had seen how beautiful she was with piercing golden eyes and long waves of chocolate brown hair that looked like waves of silk, and Beatrice knew that Isabella's beauty would couple nicely with Diego's handsome dark brown eyes and jet black hair.

Yes, it seemed that everyone had someone, and she was glad to say she had Erik. Even if their marriage was pretend, their feelings for each other weren't, and Beatrice was _extremely_ glad for that. It meant that she would not be alone while Erik was there.

"_I must talk to Ruban!_" she reminded herself. She ran toward the stables and had another servant saddle Ramses for her. Erik had been teaching her to ride at every opportunity that was presented and she had become proficient enough to ride at least to the Castillo's home which wasn't that far away. Once Ramses was saddled she hurriedly grabbed a cloak hanging by the exit of the house and mounted her steed.

"If Señor LaRouche asks you, tell him I am with the Castillos," she told the servant who nodded his understanding and led Ramses from the stable. Beatrice kicked his side and he took off in a gallop, something Beatrice loved to do that Erik was always against.



"Beatrice! Are you mad?!" Esperanza laughed as she caught Beatrice riding toward the hacienda. "Erik will have your head for this! You are not only riding like a man, but you had Ramses in a gallop!"

"I do not care," Beatrice smiled, dismounting, and Esperanza ordered one of her servants to stable the horse. The two women embraced and Beatrice looked the Spanish beauty in the eye. "Where is your husband?"

"Are you alright?" Esperanza frowned, suddenly concerned.

"I am fine," Beatrice smiled warmly. "I simply wish to ask him a question about…men."

Esperanza's frown deepened in confusion but she nodded and led Beatrice by the hand into the house.

"I believe he is in his study," Esperanza said, and led the red-head that way. When they reached the room, they found Ruban reading something that sat on his desk and concentrating very hard on it.

"Mi querido?" Esperanza called, timidly. Ruban looked up from what he was doing and smiled at the women.

"Si, mi amor?" he replied, standing and walking around the desk toward the girls.

"Beatrice has come to talk to you," Esperanza replied and ducked from the room quickly, sensing her presence was not needed. "I'll just be in the parlor." She shut the door behind her and Beatrice turned to Ruban.

"I will be brief, I am sure Erik will not be pleased with my coming here without telling him," Beatrice said quickly. "May I ask you something?"

"Ask me anything you wish, mi amigo," Ruban smiled, sitting on the edge of his desk. Beatrice nodded and stepped closer to him so that she would not be heard by anyone that was possibly listening at the door.

"Do you remember the night of the masquerade ball?" she began in a near whisper.

"I do," he nodded. "Which reminds me, has Erik recovered?"

"Yes, he is well now," Beatrice nodded. "I seem to recall seeing Raoul de Chagny and Christine Daaé there as well."

"Oh, yes, I invited them," Ruban replied. "I did not think to introduce them to yourself and Erik, forgive me."

"No, it is quite alright. I was only wondering, and please do not take this offensively, why exactly did you invite them?"

Ruban frowned at the question, but thought nothing of it and answered anyway.

"Christine Daaé had agreed to sing _La Boehm_ at my opera house later this month. Raoul de Chagny is her patron and fiancé, and he too was invited."

Beatrice nodded and seemed to look like she was in deep thought.

"May I ask how you know of them?"

Beatrice looked at him in terror and Ruban suddenly had a feeling he was never going to find out.

"Is this something you cannot tell me?" he wondered and Beatrice nodded then looked away in shame.

"I am so sorry, Ruban," she whispered and he merely lifted her chin to meet his gaze.

"Do not apologize," he smiled warmly. "I will not press you on the matter, but I will ask if this has helped you in any way."

Beatrice managed to smile and nod slightly.

"Thank you, Ruban, for understanding," she smiled wider.

"You are too welcome, mi amigo," he smiled back.

"I will give Erik your greetings," she said and hugged him fiercely. "Thank you!" Before Ruban knew what was going on, Beatrice darted from the room and ran into the parlor where she found Esperanza sitting on the sofa.

"Are you quite finished with my husband?" the Spanish beauty smirked, and Beatrice laughed as she went to her.

"Yes, quite finished," the red-head replied. "Now I must go, mon ami. My husband is going to burst into flames of rage when he finds that I am gone from the house without him knowing!" The two laughed again and embraced then Esperanza told one of the servants to bring Ramses from the stables so that Beatrice could ride back home.


	21. A Past Revealed

**A/N: **"The time has come," the walrus said. "To talk of many things. Of the past, and love, and operas. Of feeling many things." I couldn't resist. Basically, the moment you've all been waiting for...Beatrice's horrifying event that is haunting her. You know you wanna know! Thanks for sticking around so far!

_**Chapter 21: A Past Revealed**_

Beatrice ran into hers and Erik's bedroom hurriedly. She tried looking for Erik everywhere else in this house but he was nowhere to be found, and when she asked Diego where he had last seen the masked man he said he had been heading towards the bedroom, and that he did not look at all pleased. That could only mean that he had been told where she had gone and he was furious with her.

Beatrice stopped dead in her tracks when she entered and saw Erik standing at the window across the room, his back facing the door. He stood tall, and she could tell by the way he was holding himself that he was _not_ happy. She quickly clasped her hands in front of her and cast her eyes down, showing submission, even if he wasn't looking. When he finally turned around there was a deep scowl on his face as he looked her over.

"I had to hear from a servant that you had gone to the Castillos," he began. She didn't move or speak even to apologize. "Tell me, what was so important that you had to _gallop_ to the Castillos hacienda without telling _me_?"

"I had to ask Ruban something," Beatrice mumbled. "I am sorry, Erik. I should have told you---"

"Yes, you _should_ have told me!" Erik growled, making Beatrice take a step back, but she kept her eyes cast down. "And what were you thinking, riding like a man?! You know a lady should ride side-saddle!"

Beatrice didn't look at him. She knew she should have told him that she was going to Ruban and Esperanza's and he wouldn't have gotten upset, as long as he knew where she was going. She also knew that he couldn't have liked getting her location from a servant.

"I am sorry," she shuddered, trying not to cry, but not being able to keep in her tears. "I should have told you," she repeated.

Erik sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He hated reprimanding her, but she had to understand that unless she told him where she was going and what she was doing, he couldn't protect her. He still felt guilty about not being there when Daniel had nearly raped her, and that in itself was taunting enough to his mind and conscience. He now felt extremely guilty because he had made her cry, and he wasn't too sure what to do. Should he go to her and hold her? Should he leave the room and let her sob? He wanted to do the earlier, but he really wasn't sure.

"Beatrice," he said a bit firmly. "Stop crying."

"I am sorry," she shuddered again.

"Stop apologizing."

"Erik---"

Her apology was cut off when he walked toward her and she stayed still, not really knowing if she wanted to know what he was going to do.

"Mon ange, tell me what you are up to from now on, and I will not be upset with you," he murmured, pulling her toward him. He lifted her chin up with his fingers and looked into her watery eyes. "I only wish to keep you safe."

"I am so---"

She was cut off again when he pulled her close to him and began kissing her neck. She gasped in surprise at his actions and at the fact that his mood had changed so quickly. He was becoming more and more of a mystery to her, and she loved the fact that he was a puzzle waiting to be solved. Beatrice allowed herself to melt into the moment, wrapping her arms around his neck and closing her eyes to savor the feeling of his lips caressing her skin.

"Erik?" she breathed and he made a noise in response. "You are no longer upset with me?"

"You are too beautiful to allow myself to stay upset with you," he replied between kisses. He worshipped her skin with a few more kisses and smiled on her neck when he inhaled her unique scent. "Did you send your letters?" he asked in a murmur between kisses.

"I had Diego send them," she sighed in contentment. "That is, he will send them after he is finished flirting with Isabella."

"He is a dog," Erik growled, nibbling on Beatrice's earlobe, making her giggle.

"Look who is calling who a dog," she smiled and he pulled away to study her face.

"You call your husband a dog?" he smirked.

"Only when he is _devouring_ me like I am some sort of treat!" she retorted.

"You think I am _devouring_ you?" he wondered, his visible eyebrow rising. "I will show you how I would _devour_ you." Erik scooped Beatrice up in his arms and carried her to the bed. She gasped when he laid her down and began kissing her neck again then attacked her mouth. She squeaked and gasped in surprise with everything he did, and when his tongue entered her mouth, she moaned in approval and couldn't help herself from wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him closer. He broke the kiss and began trailing kisses down her neck again.

"Erik!" she gasped when she felt his tongue stroke her neck and he groaned in response.

"Tell me, Beatrice," he said against her skin. "What did you talk to Esperanza about?"

"A-Actually I had to ask Ruban something," she replied, as Erik still sucked on her neck and now ran his hands to her waist.

"And what did you ask Ruban about?"

"Why Christine and Raoul were at the ball."

Erik froze and looked at Beatrice with disbelief in his wide, sea-green eyes.

"What?"

"I asked him why they were there," she repeated. "I know I should have asked you first but---"

"Why?" he interrupted, and Beatrice frowned at him in confusion.

"What?"

"Why were they there?"

Beatrice studied his face intently. He wanted to know why, but truth be told, she was afraid to tell him. However, she didn't want to lie to him. Perhaps she could tell him a _half_ truth.

"She...She is performing at Ruban's opera house…soon," she replied as honestly as she could. She felt her heart clench when she saw how his eyes lit up at the news and she shifted to sit up. Erik frowned in confusion and sat up next to her.

"Are you alright?" he hoped, placing a hand on her shoulder gently.

"I am fine," she replied, smiling slightly, but Erik looked at her skeptically.

"You do not lie very well, mon ange," he whispered in her ear. Erik began leaving tender kisses on her neck again but she shrugged him off. "Beatrice?"

"I am fine, Erik," she said firmly and stood to walk from the room but Erik wouldn't have it. He stood up and gripped her wrist, pulling her back toward him.

"No, Erik! Leave me alone!"

"No!" Erik growled his temper flaring up because she wouldn't tell him what was wrong. "Something is bothering you! Tell me what is wrong!"

"It is nothing!" she insisted, beginning to sob. "I want to go back to talk to Esperanza!"

"Damn it, Beatrice! Stop lying to me! Just tell me---" A smack resounded through the room, and Erik felt a sting on his left cheek along with his heart drop to his stomach at the realization that Beatrice had slapped him. Why? Why would she do that? Was she aware of what she had done? Erik looked at Beatrice who was seething. He had never seen her this mad with him before. He would have given anything to know what was going through her mind as her golden eyes stared him down.

"Let me go," she demanded through gritted teeth. Erik's hand released her wrist and she turned to walk out of the room. Erik stood in the middle of the room in shock. Why had she done it? Why had she slapped him? Oh, this was not over. He wouldn't allow it to be over. Erik clenched his fists and stormed out of the room after Beatrice. He had this feeling that she was in the parlor. She had gone there when they had fallen in the tub accidentally, and if his instincts were correct---

He stopped and made a double take into the music room. There she sat, at the piano, playing a soft tune. She didn't seem to notice he was there and he was about to walk toward her and give her what for, but stopped when he heard the most beautiful sound he had ever heard.

_Close your eyes_

_Don't you cry_

_Let the darkness within you feel light_

_Don't despair_

_Have no fear_

_You'll take comfort in me like a child..._

Erik frowned when she trailed off. She was doing well, why would she stop? He suddenly heard sobbing noises and immediately felt guilt sweep over him. He had made her cry…again! Why couldn't he do anything right?!

"Lord, why?!" Beatrice sobbed, holding her head in her hands. "Why would you lead me to someone who is still in love with someone else?!"

So that's what this was about. Christine. He had to admit that he had been happy when Beatrice had told him that Christine was performing here in Spain, but didn't Beatrice know---?

"_You have not told her you love her yet!_" his mind screamed at him. "_If she does not know your feelings for her, how can she understand? She is not a mind reader!_" Erik took a deep breath and began his approach toward Beatrice. She heard his footsteps and looked up at him with tear soaked cheeks and watery eyes. He knew it was terrible of him to think it but she looked so adorable.

"Please, Erik," she breathed. "Do not do this."

"Do what?" he wondered, sitting next to her on the bench.

"Do not drag this out any further," she begged. "I do not want to hurt you again."

Erik sighed and took her hands in his, much to her surprise.

"You have nothing to worry about," he began simply and she looked at him in confusion as he began playing with her fingers.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"I mean, you need not worry of my feelings for Christine," he explained and she looked at him in complete disbelief. "My feelings for her have lessened of late and have turned to someone far more…attainable." He glanced at her to see her reaction and Beatrice merely stared at him, still in disbelief.

"You mean to say that you have feelings…for me?" she breathed and Erik lifted both her hands to his mouth and kissed her knuckles gently.

"In so many words," he smirked against her skin. "Yes." Without another word, Erik pulled her fully into his arms and simply held her.

"_Why did you not say that you love her?_" he asked himself. He was kept from answering himself when he felt Beatrice's arms slip around his waist and her face burrow into his chest.

"I have feelings for you, as well," she confessed. "I cannot stand to lose you to her."

"You will not, cheri," he breathed pulling her closer and burying his face in her hair. "I have told you this."

"I know," she shuddered. "I know. I just do not want---"

Erik frowned in concern when she stopped short of finishing her sentence, and brought her chin up to meet his gaze.

"You do not want what?" he wondered.

"I do not want to be alone again," she breathed and sniffled.

"I will _never_ leave you alone," Erik murmured sincerely. "I did it once, and it will not happen again. I will protect you."

"That was not your fault, Erik," Beatrice breathed, knowing that Erik was talking about her being attacked by Daniel on Krystal Robyn's ship. "I should not have opened the door."

Erik gripped her arms and held her out to look her in the eye.

"Do not think for one second that what happened was your fault," he ordered sternly.

"But it was not your fault either!" Beatrice replied. "Just like the last time---" She stopped short again and Erik stared at her in disbelief.

"_Last_ time?" he breathed. Beatrice started shaking her head violently and stood to run out of the room, but Erik wouldn't have it. He stood with her and when she turned her back to him, he pulled her into his arms from behind and she struggled to get away.

"No! Let me go!" she sobbed.

"Beatrice," he whispered in her ear. "Tell me what happened, please."

Beatrice stopped and took a deep breath. He knew that whatever it was she was hiding, it would be hard, and it wouldn't help her if he was to yell and demand that she tell him.

"Let us go to the parlor, and you can tell me everything."

"No," Beatrice shuddered. "We can stay here." She turned in his arms and threw her arms around his neck. He could do nothing but hold her close as she began sobbing into his chest again. He wanted to hear her story, but he wouldn't rush her. It seemed so painful for her and he hoped that the situation with Daniel was as bad as it had gotten in her life.

"_Please, God, whatever this is, let it have a happy ending_," he prayed. Beatrice looked up at him, as if looking for strength through him, and when he looked down at her, she found it.

"It was years ago," she began, breathlessly. "I was thirteen and had been living with Madame Giry for about four years. One night, as with many nights before, I had gone out to the market for groceries and I was walking back home when…it happened. I was taking a short-cut because it was extremely late, and I had spent more time in the market than I had intended.

"I was walking down the lane when I thought I had heard something behind me and turned just for a moment, but no one was there. When I turned back to walk on, I felt myself be pulled from behind and in my shock I dropped the bag of things on the ground. I remember screaming and then a hand covered my mouth…" She trailed off a bit and Erik felt his heart clench when her eyes glazed over and her face grew a bit pale.

"The tomatoes…" she breathed and Erik frowned in confusion. "They had splattered all over the street. It was the last thing I saw before he dragged me into the alley. I tried again to scream, but his hand muffled my cry and his other hand started pulling up my skirts." She began sobbing slightly again and Erik pulled her close to him, resting his cheek on her head.

"He smelt of alcohol and he was hurting me with every movement. I tried to kick him off of me, but he was so much stronger than I. He pushed me onto the ground and his mouth started taking unwanted liberties, but try as I might, he would not get off of me! Everything else turned into a blur. All I remember is pain and tears streaming down my face as he…he…"

"Shh," Erik interrupted, pulling her closer still. "That is enough, mon ange. I understand."

"Please, Erik, do not leave me!" she cried, letting herself break down entirely.

"I told you I will not," he replied soothingly. "Why would I do such a thing?"

"I am damaged!"

Erik pushed her out to arms length, taking Beatrice aback and ceasing her crying.

"If you _ever_ say anything like that again, I _will_ leave you," he growled. He couldn't let her think that way about herself, he wouldn't allow it. Beatrice stared at him in total disbelief and horror. "Am I understood?"

"E-Erik---"

"Am I understood, Beatrice?" he repeated, softening his tone.

"Y-Yes," she shuddered. "I understand."



_That evening…_

"You are the second LaRouche to pay a visit here, Erik," Ruban laughed as he led the masked man to his study. It was a bit late for visits, but Ruban could see that something was troubling his friend.

"I am sorry for the late visit," Erik said, not removing his cloak or even sitting when Ruban permitted him. "I came to ask you what you told Beatrice."

Ruban looked at the masked man with a frown of confusion as he sat at his desk.

"Should you not ask _her_ what I told her?" Ruban wondered.

"Whenever I tried asking her something else always seemed to come up," Erik replied simply. "She only told me what she asked you and part of what you had said."

"What part?" Ruban asked.

"Why Christine Daaé and Raoul de Chagny were at the ball, but nothing more."

"Then she told you Christine Daaé is performing in two week's time?"

Erik's eyes widened when he heard this.

"She told me Christine was performing, but she told me no specific date," Erik breathed.

"Nor had I told her anything of that account," Ruban replied. "But I have received a letter from Señorita Daaé that she will perform in my opera house in two weeks. She is looking forward to it."

"I see," Erik nodded, and looked like he was lost in his thoughts.

"If you wish, I can arrange for the four of us to see her perform. Beatrice and yourself and Esperanza and I can sit in my private box."

Erik looked at Ruban in horror making him frown.

"N-No!" Erik shook his head, backing away slightly. "No, I couldn't ask you such a thing. You have done so much for us already!"

"Nonsense!" Ruban smiled and pulled a piece of paper from a paper weight and a pen from a drawer. "I will merely have one of my servants run this note to the valet and---" Ruban jumped when Erik slammed one of his hands on the surface of the table over the paper the noble had been writing on. Ruban looked up into Erik's eyes and shrunk back a bit when he saw the fire burning in them. What had he done?

"Thank you, but no," Erik protested again through clenched teeth. "I cannot ask you to do such a thing." The masked man shoved off of the table and stalked toward the door.

"And if Beatrice requests it?" Ruban wondered, cautiously. Erik stopped at the door and opened it, but before leaving he answered the other man's question.

"She will not."



Erik lay in bed on his back, Beatrice snuggled up against him and his arms around her as he stared up at the ceiling, unable to sleep. He knew he had done the right thing in telling Ruban that he did not want to see Christine perform, but deep in his heart he knew he still wanted to. He wanted to hear her sing at least one last time, see her one last time as her happy self, and not haunted by him as The Phantom of the opera or her Angel of music.

He had fought the urge to jump at the offer Ruban had given him for Beatrice's sake. It was bad enough that she thought so badly of herself and that he was still in love with Christine, he couldn't take her to Christine's performance with the thought of seeing her again. It would only make Beatrice sure that he still loved her. It would crush her, and he couldn't do that to her.

Erik looked down at the sleeping red-head in his arms and marveled at her a moment. The porcelain skin sprinkled with the adorable freckles on her nose and cheeks, and the pouting, moist, rosy lips that were slightly parted and beckoning him to taste them. One of his hands was running its fingers through her silky soft curls of fiery red hair, and had been since they had settled in to go to sleep. Her slender arms were wrapped around him, and one slim hand rested on his chest. She looked for the entire world like the most beautiful angel, and he was captivated by her.

Beatrice stirred and Erik smiled when she pressed her face against his neck. He pulled his mask off and placed it on the nightstand next to the bed then shifted so that he could be face to face with her. She snuggled into the pillow and Erik pulled his arms back around her, staring at her peaceful face.

"I love you, Beatrice," he whispered, not really wanting her to hear but needing to say it. He couldn't help but chuckle quietly when he saw her smile, as if she had heard him and had thought of a way to use it against him already.

"Erik…" she breathed, stirring slightly again. Erik felt pride sweep over him at that moment, and couldn't help himself from pulling her closer. She spoke his name in her sleep so innocently, and it teased him to no end that he found it seductive.

"You are taunting me, little one," he whispered with a smirk. Beatrice simply groaned and stirred.

"Erik…" she moaned. Erik felt like he was going to burst from that one sound. Now she was moaning?! Did she know what she was doing to him?! Apparently not because she snuggled even closer to him until he felt every lovely inch of her against him. It was becoming too much for him, especially when her hands began making a slow journey downward across his chest. Erik gripped her hands gently but she didn't wake up. He slowly inched backwards, but wasn't paying attention to where he was on the bed, and fell right off the edge with a grunt. Beatrice finally woke up with a start and when she didn't find Erik lying next to her, she panicked and frantically looked around.

"Erik!" she cried and jumped slightly when his hand came up and rested on the mattress. He pushed himself to his feet and Beatrice couldn't help the snicker that erupted from her throat. She threw her hands over her mouth when Erik shot a wide-eyed gaze at her but it only made her burst into laughter.

"I am sure you find my clumsiness absolutely hilarious, but could you be a dear and not laugh at me, please?" he said flatly. Beatrice slowly stopped laughing and held her arms toward him, beckoning him to come to her. He crawled back into the bed and pulled her into his embrace.

"I am sorry, dear," Beatrice smiled, pressing her face into his chest. "You can be so amusing sometimes."

"As can you, cheri," Erik smirked, getting an idea to make her blush. As they looked into each other's eyes, one of Erik's hands ran down her back and cupped her rear. Beatrice gasped and Erik grinned as her skin tinged to a deep crimson.

"Erik!" she gasped when he pulled her close by her bottom. "Do you know what you are doing?!"

"I am making you blush," he smiled triumphantly then began leaving hot tender kisses on her neck and shoulder.

"Erik!"

"Your skin is feverish," he growled against her skin.

"Because you are _devouring_ me again," Beatrice breathed, trying to be comical in this very awkward moment for her.

"Can you blame me, cheri?" Erik smiled against her neck. "You are delicious."

"But Erik---!"

She was interrupted when she felt Erik's fingers touch her lips to silence her, and she froze as he gazed into her eyes.

"I know, mon ange," he whispered, moving his hand away. He left a tender kiss on her lips and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. "Sleep, little one."

"_I will 'devour' you in my dreams._"


	22. The Secrets Finally Revealed

**A/N: **Ah, another thing everyone's probably been waiting for! What is the connection between Krystal and Erik? I contemplated over this because I was afraid it might be too predictable, and i kinda messed with Erik's past a bit, so please review this chapter. Even if you haven't reviewed my stuff before...I'd like to know what you think of this chapter.

_**Chapter 22: The Secrets Finally Revealed**_

"Señora?" Diego called into the parlor as he saw Beatrice sitting on the sofa working on some embroidery.

"Yes, Diego?" she called back.

"A letter has arrived for you," he said, walking in and handing it to her. Beatrice's face lit up and she took the letter quickly.

"Thank you," she said and he bowed out of the room as she nearly ripped the envelope open.

It had been at least a week since she had written to Antoinette and Meg Giry, and she had been hoping for a response, but this had been rather quick, Beatrice was wondering if it was a rejection. Still, it was better than no response at all. She made sure that Erik was no where to be found at the moment then turned to the letter.

_Dearest Beatrice,_

_I see you have not lost yourself completely in your travels. Yes, Meg has told me everything that you have gone through, and I must say that I am pleased to hear of your new friends and adventures. I had always wanted the best for you, and I am glad to see that Erik has been able to show you that._

_As for your questions, I must say that I am surprised that you were able to make Krystal tell you what she did. She can be a rather hard person at times, as I am sure you have seen, although, she has been known to show feeling._

_The answer to your question of why I kept all of you secret from each other was simple. You, my dear Beatrice, were innocent, and I could not have you fraternizing with a pirate! Much as I love dear Krystal, she had chosen her path, and at the time, I was not speaking to her. But after that tragic day which I am sure I do not need to mention about yourself, I was sure she could advise me on how you would feel._

_As for Erik, I could not have him fraternizing with a pirate either. Krystal can sometimes be a bad influence on people, and thankfully she realizes this, which is part of the reason she is so cold. I did not think I would have to take in another child, but when I found you, I had to bring you in. As you already know, I did not try to hide Erik from you, however, when I took him to the opera house, I thought it best to keep you separate to keep you from harm. I had no idea of the kind of man Erik would turn out to be, and thinking back on all of this now, I know I should have let you visit him as often as possible._

_There is a very good reason why I kept Krystal and Erik a secret from each other for so long. You see, petite, about four months after I had found Krystal, a woman came to my home, though I knew not who she was, and told me that she was looking for her daughter. She had been from house to house, even though she was with child, and asking if anyone had seen a little girl with ebony black hair and turquoise blue eyes._

_Of course, I immediately fetched Krystal, and when the woman saw the girl, she began sobbing with joy and hugged her. I thought the woman would take her away and they would be together, but instead, she told me to take good care of her and keep her safe, and that when she had her child, she would pray that it would find its way to me. When I asked her why she was speaking like one of the insane she told me she was going to die in child birth._

_Krystal had been three years old at the time, and when she was thirteen, she had decided to leave my care and find a life of her own. That was when I found Erik, at ten years of age, abandoned and deformed. He had been as poor as a mouse, save a small piece of paper he clutched in his hand where ever he went. It was a picture, and when I finally got him to show it to me, it had an image of the very woman that had told me she was Krystal's mother, and on the back of the picture was scribbled word. "Mother"_

_And so now you know, my darling, that Krystal and Erik are siblings separated when they were children. I never told Krystal until you were thirteen, and I told her never to reveal it to either of you when I asked her take you to Spain. Now, I beg you, Beatrice, tell him. He deserves to know that he is not alone in this world. He deserves to know that he has someone he can call his relative. I kept it secret because I thought it would be best for the both of them, now I know it was not. I beg you, tell him._

_Sincerely,_

_A. Giry_

Beatrice stared at the piece of paper in front of her. Krystal was Erik's sister?! That must have been why they seemed to have a strong connection as soon as she and Erik had walked onto the dock! Why they seemed to have a relationship without one knowing anything about the other! Now that Beatrice thought about it, Krystal's personality reflected Erik's. Hard, short tempered, and the resemblance was there, but unnoticeable at first glance.

"Oh, Lord," she breathed when she thought of something else. "I must tell him." That shouldn't be too hard if he didn't get angry because Madame Giry had never told him and Krystal knew and hadn't told either. Hopefully, he would be calm if she told him while he was in a good mood and if she was being affectionate.

"Beatrice!" Erik called from the hall. She quickly shoved the letter back into the envelope and picked up her embroidery.

"I am in the parlor!" she called back, resuming her sewing. Erik strode into the room and placed a tender kiss on her cheek before sitting beside her on the sofa. "Where were you?"

"I wanted to ask Ruban something," he replied simply. He was about to say something more but said nothing when he noticed the letter on Beatrice's lap. "Did Antoinette write back?"

Beatrice glanced at the letter then rested it next to her on the sofa opposite Erik.

"Yes," she replied, still sewing.

"Well, what did she say?" Erik smiled reaching for the letter. Beatrice quickly yanked it out of reach and their eyes met, his filled with confusion.

"What is it?"

Beatrice simply shook her head and Erik felt his temper start to take over.

"What did you tell her?"

"Nothing, Erik," she insisted.

"Then why will you not let me read the letter?" he demanded. Beatrice didn't reply, and Erik's blood began to boil. "Why will you not let me read it?!"

She shrunk back at his tone, and he took that opportunity to snatch the letter out of her hand and stand to walk away from her.

"No!" Beatrice cried slightly trying to grab the letter. She then reached out for him to bring him back to her but he strode out of reach.

She watched as he pulled the letter from its envelope and read it over. She prayed he would not go out control, but anything could happen. After all, it was Erik. She knew exactly which part he had gotten to when she saw his eyes widen and his mouth fall open slightly. Only when he dropped the letter to the floor did Beatrice stand and walk toward him. She picked up the letter then led Erik to the sofa and he sat down, his eyes still wide and staring into space.

"Erik?" she tried when he stayed still. She would have given anything to know what was going through his mind at that point, but she would have to let the shock dissolve before she would find out.

"Sh-She…She is m-my…sister?!" Erik stood up and began pacing in front of the fireplace. "This…This is… She is my…my---"

"Sister, Erik," Beatrice interrupted, standing and walking toward him. Erik stopped when she placed her hands on his chest. "She is your sister."

He examined her face intently. He knew she was only trying to help, but this was too much! Madame Giry knew this whole time that Krystal was his sister and never told him. Krystal knew and never told him when he and Beatrice were on her ship. Now Beatrice knew, and she had been trying to keep it secret! Why?

"Why were you trying to keep the letter from me?" he demanded, his shock turning to anger.

"What?"

"You were not going to tell me about Krystal being my sister. Why?"

"I was going to tell you, Erik," she insisted. "I was waiting for the right time."

"Never?!"

"When you were in a good mood!"

Erik simply stared at her, and knew she was telling the truth.

"She is my sister."

"Yes," Beatrice whispered, placing her hands on either side of his head. "She is."

"She wanted to tell me," he said. "I could see it in her eyes."

"I am sure she would have, if she could have," Beatrice said, soothingly, running her fingers through his hair.

"I have a sister," Erik breathed with a slight smile.

"You are not alone," Beatrice agreed.

"I was never alone after I found you, again," he whispered. Beatrice smiled and hugged him close. He was getting back to his old self again.

"What was it you asked Ruban about?" she wondered, wanting to change the subject.

"He was asking if you and I would like to go to the opera," he said, starting to leave soft kisses on her neck and shoulder.

"And what did you tell him?" Beatrice sighed in contentment as he worshipped her neck.

"I told him I would ask you if you wished to go," Erik replied.

He couldn't believe he was doing this. Blatantly _lying_ to the woman he loved just to see the other woman he _had_ loved was a new low for him. The truth was that he had gone to Ruban and told him that he had changed his mind about going to the opera to see Christine perform. Ruban of course had asked if Beatrice would like to go as well, and Erik told him that he had no doubt that she would want to. After all, she only new an approximate time of Christine's performance, not an actual date. He could get away with this easily. He only needed to make sure she said yes.

"I do not know, Erik," Beatrice sighed, breaking into his thoughts. Erik looked into her eyes and saw serious doubt in their golden depths. Not good.

"Beatrice, I _want_ to take you to the opera," Erik said, sincerely. "We have not been to a performance since we have left France. I want to share my love of the opera with you." At least all of this was true. He _did_ want to share everything he loved with her, and he hoped she would do the same with the things she loved. Beatrice bit her bottom lip in thought, and Erik couldn't help the small smile that crossed his lips at the sight. She was too adorable for her own good!

"Alright," she nodded. "When is the performance?"

"The coming Tuesday," Erik smiled pulling her closer. "The performance is _La Boehm_, and you must find a stunning dress so that I can show you off and be the envy of every man who sees us."

Beatrice giggled and planted her lips to his but broke the kiss before Erik could try to deepen it.

"May I go shopping with Esperanza then?" she smiled innocently, and Erik rolled his eyes.

"Yes," he whispered. "Buy whatever your heart desires."

Beatrice giggled again and ran from the room toward the stables to get Ramses. Erik sighed and leaned on the mantel of the fireplace.

"_What have you done?_" he asked himself. "_As soon as Christine is on that stage, she will realize why you are __really__ there. Could you not just leave well enough alone?! Why must you pursue Christine when you are in love with Beatrice?!_"

"Señor?"

Erik looked up to see Diego standing in the doorway.

"What is it Diego?"

"Don and Dona Castillo have arrived," Diego replied. "Señora LaRouche is greeting them."

Erik stared at the servant in horror. If Beatrice took the liberty of telling Ruban that they have decided to go to the opera, Ruban will surely tell her that it was Erik who went to him! Erik darted to the door and ran down the hall to the front door of the hacienda. There he saw Beatrice and the Castillos.

"We are _so_ looking forward to seeing _La Boehm_ on Tuesday, Ruban," Beatrice smiled and Erik quickly came up behind her.

"Dear," he choked, drawing everyone's attention as he cleared his throat. "Why do you not let our friends inside? It is quite damp out."

Beatrice frowned in confusion at his sudden nervousness but moved from the doorway to let their friends in. Beatrice quickly took Esperanza's hands and grinned at the Spanish beauty.

"Erik has agreed to let me shop for a new dress for the opera," she giggled.

"May we go now?" Esperanza wondered excitedly. The two women looked at their husbands who then looked at each other, shrugged, and nodded to their wives.

"You may take our carriage," Ruban smiled, and the girls darted toward the door, hand in hand. Erik breathed a sigh of relief and Ruban looked at him with a frown. "Are you alright, amigo?"

"Somewhat," Erik groaned. "I lied to Beatrice."

Ruban stared at the masked man in disbelief.

"What did you tell her?"

"I told her that _you_ came to _me_ about the opera earlier." Erik led Ruban to the study and shut the door behind them.

"Oh, Erik, you gave me a start!" Ruban sighed in relief. "I thought it was something severe."

"It _is_ severe," Erik replied, sitting at his desk.

"It is true that a man should not lie to his wife, but this is so small---"

"Ruban, it is serious," Erik interrupted. "If you only knew, you would understand."

Ruban sighed and sat on the edge of the desk.

"So why do you not tell me about it?" he wondered. "Then I could fully understand."

Erik looked at Ruban with wide eyes seriously debating on that question that always left him baffled. To tell, or not to tell.



"Oh, Beatrice! It is stunning!" Esperanza smiled, as Beatrice emerged from the dressing room.

"You do not think it is too…revealing?" Beatrice hoped, looking at herself in a mirror.

"Absolutely not!" Esperanza laughed, walking toward her friend. "What is so revealing about it that I cannot see?"

"The neck line," Beatrice replied. Esperanza examined it through the mirror then shook her head.

"It is perfect! Erik will be holding his head high with pride at your beauty."

Beatrice shrugged and examined herself in the mirror.

The dress she was wearing was an emerald green floor length gown of taffeta with black sequins shaped into flowers on the bodice, and black lace lining the square shaped neckline and elbow length sleeves. Around the waist of the dress was a layer of black organza that fell the length of the skirts and flowed behind her when she walked. The reason she was worried that it was too revealing was the fact that because she pulled her corset so tight at all times, it made her breasts look as though they were going to spill over the top, and it was why she wore high collared gowns most of the time.

"Are you sure, Esperanza?" Beatrice frowned, trying to pull the collar up.

"No! Do not do that!" Esperanza cried and quickly stood in front of Beatrice and pulled the collar back down. "Your husband would be disappointed if he saw you doing that," she murmured with a smirk. Beatrice's face flushed a dark crimson at Esperanza's words making the other woman giggle.

"E-Esperanza!" she cried in a harsh whisper. "You should not say such things!"

"Oh, come now, Beatrice. We are both married women! We know what our husbands want." Esperanza finished fixing Beatrice collar and stood away from the mirror to allow the woman to see herself.

"There! I am sure Erik will think you look good enough to _eat_!" Esperanza giggled, making Beatrice's complexion turn an even deeper shade of red.

"Stop that!" she pleaded. "We should not talk of such things!"

"Why are you embarrassed?" Esperanza wondered, and Beatrice simply shook her head and ducked back into the dressing room to change. Esperanza could not imagine what Beatrice was going through, and why she seemed so ashamed of speaking of things that were natural between a husband and wife. Realization suddenly hit Esperanza like a brick, and she ran to the door and knocked softly.

"Beatrice?" she called.

"Yes?" Beatrice called back.

"Let me in a moment, please?" The door opened and Esperanza ducked in and shut the door quickly. "Beatrice, tell me the truth." The Spanish beauty took Beatrice's hands in hers and stepped as close as she could so as not to be heard by anyone who may be outside. "Have you and Erik consummated your marriage yet?" Esperanza needed no reply of words to answer her question because Beatrice's face turned red again. She pulled away and tried to unlace her bodice quickly to change back into the gown she had been wearing.

"I…I am not sure what you mean," Beatrice shuddered.

"Beatrice, it is alright," Esperanza said, walking in front of Beatrice. "I will not judge you."

"I am not worried about judgment," Beatrice replied, turning away from her again, but Esperanza followed.

"Then what is it? Are you afraid he will not find you pleasing?"

"No!" Beatrice gasped, once again turning away. Esperanza followed.

"Are you afraid he will hurt you?"

"No!"

Esperanza grasped Beatrice's shoulders when she tried to turn away and looked her in the eyes.

"What is wrong?"

"We are not married!" Beatrice finally whispered. Esperanza stared at her friend in disbelief and pulled her hands away as if burned.

"What?" she breathed.

"We are not married," Beatrice murmured again. "I am sorry, but we had to leave France without questions, and the only way we could do that was to say that we were married."

"But why say 'husband and wife' why not say 'siblings'?!" Esperanza wondered.

"Did we look like we could be passed off as siblings, Esperanza?" Beatrice retorted, and she felt guilt sweep over her as the other woman looked at her in total betrayal. She sighed and took her hands in hers. "I am sorry, Esperanza. And believe me when I say that I hated having to lie to you and Ruban, but it was the only way we could start a new life here."

"Why did you have to leave France?" Esperanza wondered, still in shock. Beatrice sighed and sat Esperanza in a chair in the corner of the room then knelt down next to her.

"It is a long story," Beatrice replied. "And I will tell you, but you must swear not to say anything about it to Erik."



_Before sunset..._

"There is my sunshine!" Ruban smiled as Esperanza and Beatrice walked toward the entrance of the house. "Did you have fun shopping?"

Esperanza nodded with a wide smile and threw her arms around her husband's neck as Beatrice walked toward Erik and hugged him.

"We found marvelous dresses," Esperanza smiled and glanced at Beatrice.

"I cannot wait to see how the two of you look in them," Ruban smiled then turned to Erik and Beatrice. "We shall see you the night of the opera, si?"

"Yes," Erik nodded. "See you then. Have a good night."

"You also," Ruban nodded.

"Good night!" the girls called to each other and Erik pulled Beatrice into the house and quickly shut the door.

"Erik, what is wrong?" Beatrice laughed as Erik pulled her toward the parlor.

"I have to tell you something," Erik said in a near whisper. "I think I just ruined everything."

"Why would you say that?" Beatrice frowned, standing in front of him.

"I told Ruban everything," he confessed. "I told him about you and me and Christine and Raoul, and…everything."

Beatrice stared at Erik in disbelief and amusement.

"I told Esperanza everything as well," Beatrice smiled slightly. "I do not think we have ruined anything."

Erik looked at Beatrice for a long time then couldn't help but smile and wrap his arms around her waist, pulling her close.

"She asked me something rather embarrassing to get me to tell her everything," Beatrice murmured, running her hands along his arms.

"What did she ask?" he wondered. Beatrice swallowed as she looked into his curious sea-green eyes.

"She asked me if we had…if we had…consummated our marriage yet," she finally said. Erik's eyes shot wide in shock and she looked away from him.

"She asked you that?" he wondered in disbelief.

"Believe me, I could not believe it either," Beatrice laughed slightly. "She is so forward." She looked into his eyes and frowned when he simply stared at her. "What?"

Erik said nothing and simply leaned forward and softly kissed her lower lip. She looked at him again and he still said nothing then leaned into her again. This time he took her lower lip into his mouth and gently sucked on it. Beatrice moaned in approval as she wrapped her arms around his neck and they pulled each other closer. As much as they pulled each other close, he kept his kisses soft and tender. Erik ran his hands up Beatrice's back to pull her closer as he ran his tongue along her lips. She lifted her head and he ran a trail of soft kisses down her neck.

"Erik…" she breathed.

She felt her knees begin to sake from his soft touch and he seemed to sense it. He scooped her up into his arms and laid her on the sofa, kneeling next to her and still leaving kisses on her neck. His lips trailed to the neckline of her bodice, but he hesitated between kisses, wondering if she would protest as she had before. When she didn't, he became more enthusiastic. He trailed his lips back up her neck and began nibbling at her ear lobe.

"Erik!" she gasped in ecstasy when his tongue ran along the skin of her neck.

"You taste sweet, mon ange," he breathed against her neck making her shiver.

"W-We cannot…" She trailed off and Erik looked at her with slight disappointment in his eyes as she looked back at him.

"I understand," he nodded and stood up, helping her up as he did. "I will be in music room." He walked toward the door and Beatrice frowned in confusion at his tone. Was he upset?

"Erik!" she called, but he kept walking. She sighed in despair and sat back down on the sofa.

"That was nicely handled, Beatrice!" she growled at herself. "You bring up something like consummating marriages, and then you push him away when he is trying to---?!" She cut herself off. She couldn't even say what he was trying to do. She wasn't really sure what he was going to do when he began their lip-locking sessions. She had to admit, if it was not for her sense of morality, she would let him go as far as he wished.

"Do yourself a favor," she told herself. "Next time, just let him have his way with you. You know you want it too!"



Erik growled in frustration and slammed the door to the music room shut. He stomped around the room angrily. Why had he tried to do that?! He knew very well already that she wouldn't want to lie with him! It was stupid to even try to persuade her to! She had feelings for him, he knew that, but he had no idea how far those feelings ran. He doubted that she felt for him enough to consummate their fake marriage.

"Horny idiot!" he growled at himself. "It is pitiful the way you try to make women you love, love you in return!" He wasn't upset with Beatrice. He could never be upset with her for this. He was upset with himself, and he was afraid that he would in fact end up alone again. He refused to let himself end up alone. He wouldn't let it happen, not when Beatrice was just beginning to mean everything to him.


	23. A Night at the Opera

**A/N:** The fateful night. What will happen? All I'll say is there's another twist. I couldn't help this one. HA!

_**Chapter 23: A Night at the Opera**_

Tuesday night. The night of the opera _La Boehm_. The night that Erik hoped didn't go up in flames. He paced outside the house waiting for Beatrice to come out. He had a carriage waiting for them, and he could see that the horses were becoming restless, as was he. Every time they had somewhere to go, Beatrice took so long to get ready, and he wondered what a woman would have to do, that would take so long. He finally heard the creak of the front door closing and turned to see her.

"_Lord, have mercy_," he thought. She was wearing the emerald green dress and had her hair pulled up with just a few tight curls hanging on her shoulders. She had a black shawl wrapped around her shoulders, but it did nothing to hide the almost scandalously low neckline that Erik kept glancing at. He cleared his throat and held out his hand with his most charming smile.

"Shall we?" he smiled, and she smiled back as she took his hand.

"I am looking forward to this evening, darling," she smiled.

"You look beautiful, mon ange," he whispered, pulling her close. Beatrice smiled up at him and he entreated her to get into the carriage. He followed her in and when they began moving, he pulled her close to him again.

"What do you think of me, truly?" Beatrice whispered in Erik's ear. He looked down at her in surprise.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"What do you think…of my dress?" she asked again, hesitantly. Erik frowned at her hesitance then looked down at her dress again. The color suited her well and it fit snugly over her luscious curves, but he would much rather look at her beautiful face, with her lips painted a rosy red and her golden eyes sparkling with happiness.

"I think you make it more stunning than anyone else could ever do so," he murmured and kissed her hand gently, letting his lips linger on her skin. She smiled at him sweetly and leaned her head on his shoulder.

"You speak so nicely of me," she smiled, happily.

"I only speak the truth about you, cheri," Erik insisted.

Yes, he only spoke truth when he spoke of her beauty. He couldn't lie about that. He knew that every man at the opera was going to be wishing he had _Beatrice_ on his arm, and he was extremely glad that it was _he_ that had her. He lifted her left hand and gazed at the ring he had given her with a smile. It looked so perfect on her hand, it was almost sinful.

"Your beauty will turn every woman green tonight," he whispered making her smile again.



Erik and Beatrice took their seats in Ruban's box. Box five. The man was wise, Erik thought. When Erik and Beatrice had arrived, the box-keeper had said that Ruban and Esperanza would be arriving shortly. Erik could not keep his eyes off of Beatrice, and as he had predicted, all the men in the lobby had been staring at her. Actually, he had no way to be sure they were looking at her, or _him_. After all, he was still a mystery with his mask.

Erik shook his thoughts of that away, and took Beatrice's hands in his. For now, he would enjoy the performance with her by his side. That is, if she didn't want to leave. This was Christine's opera, and if Beatrice questioned him about it, he could only imagine how angry she would be at the fact that he knew Christine was performing _and_ that he went anyway.

"I am so glad that you decided to bring me to the opera with you, Erik," Beatrice smiled. Erik smiled back and kissed her hand, gently.

"As am I," he whispered. The lights dimmed and Erik felt himself stiffen, not knowing what to expect from her when Christine stepped on that stage. Beatrice looked at him and frowned.

"Are you alright?" she hoped.

"Yes," he nodded. "I am fine."

Beatrice, however, was doubtful. She shifted to face him and kissed his unmasked cheek, gripping his hand gently. He smiled at her and as the curtain rose, they turned their attention to the stage.

They were content, for a time, until that fateful moment when it was time for Christine's appearance. Erik glanced at Beatrice for a moment then turned back to the stage. There she was…Christine…looking as beautiful as ever.

Beatrice's eyes shot wide at the sight of the prima donna. This was the night she was to perform?! She shot her wide eyed look of disbelief at Erik. He seemed unfazed by the sight of her. He seemed calm, much to her surprise and relief.

"Erik," she whispered. "I had no idea that she was to perform tonight!"

"I know," he replied, not taking his eyes off of the stage.

"We do not have to stay," she assured him. "We can go if you wish."

"No."

"Really, Erik. We need not stay here if you are uncomfortable---"

"I knew, Beatrice," Erik interrupted. Beatrice stared at him in disbelief as he cast his eyes down in his lap. She pulled her hands away from his and their eyes met in disbelieving gazes.

"You knew?" she breathed. "You knew she was performing tonight, and you told Ruban---" Realization hit her like a brick when Erik looked down at his lap again. "Ruban did not ask you, did he? _You_ asked _him_."

"Beatrice---" Erik tried, but Beatrice shook her head and stood, moving toward the door.

"You lied to me, Erik," she shuddered, tears coming to her eyes. "You lied to me, and then you brought me here! What was it you wished to accomplish?! Did you want to show me that I truly mean nothing to you?! Did you want to show me that you still love her?! Well, you have succeeded!" She stormed from the box and ran down the hall. Without hesitation Erik shot from his seat and ran after her. He knew this wasn't a good idea. He should have listened to his instincts. _Ruban_ had even told him it wasn't a good idea, but he did this anyway.

"Beatrice!" he called when they reached the lobby. She didn't turn around or stop. Erik heard thunder outside and quickened his pace. He couldn't let her go out in the rain. Beatrice stopped at the door and pushed it open. She stopped when she realized that it was raining heavily, but with a growl of frustration and anger she ran into the street.

"Beatrice! Do not be a fool!"

She ignored his call and ran down the stairs as fast as her feet could carry her. She had to get away from him. How could he do this?! He told her he cared for her and then he pulled this stunt?! It was unheard of! Did he know how he had humiliated her?! And to think she was in love with him! Tears streamed down her face and the rain soaked her through and through, but she didn't care. She felt her feet suddenly give out beneath her, and she fell face first onto the cobblestone street. She sobbed freely into the stone beneath her as she pounded her fists down in anger.

"Please, mon ange," Erik murmured as he knelt next to her.

"No!" she cried. "Stay away!" She scrambled to her feet only to feel extreme pain in her left ankle. She cried out in pain as she fell into Erik's arms and he gathered her up to carry her.

"Whether you like it or not, I am taking you home," he whispered. She pushing away from his chest, but Erik held her fast as he called for his carriage.

"Señor?" a man asked as Erik approached the carriage when it pulled up. "Is everything alright?"

"We are fine, thank you," Erik replied.

"Pardon me, señor," the man said. "But it does not look like the señora is fine."

Erik climbed into the carriage with Beatrice kicking as he sat. She began trembling and Erik simply shut the door then turned to talk to the man.

"Señor," Erik nearly growled. "The woman I _love_ is trembling in my arms from the cold rain, not from fear of me. Follow us or call the police if you wish, but I am taking her home to warm her by the fire. I will not allow _you_ to keep me deterred from keeping _her_ from catching a cold." With that, he pounded on the roof of the carriage and it began rolling to take them home.

Beatrice stared at Erik with wide eyes, still trembling, but not struggling any more. Had she heard that right? Did he say that she was the woman he _loved_? Her mind went blank after that question, but it lingered in her mind until it couldn't linger anymore and had to be said.

"Erik---?"

"Wait until we are home, little one," he interrupted, hearing her shudder from the cold, and she said nothing the rest of the way home.

Once they reached their hacienda, the driver opened the door and Erik ran into the house, with Beatrice's arms wrapped tightly around his neck. He had to get her warm before she caught pneumonia, or worse.

"Señor!" Diego gasped in horror. "Is she alright?!"

"I need plenty of blankets in our bedroom, Diego," Erik ordered, still walking. "And build a fire in our room as well."

Diego nodded and took off to do as he was told.

"W-W-What about y-you?" Beatrice shivered, referring to the fact that he was drenched as well.

"I am not the one shaking right now, am I?" Erik retorted with a smile. She hardly registered his words over her chattering teeth, but she managed to smile slightly. He finally reached their room and he stopped when he reached the bed. "You will have to stand for a moment."

"I…I cannot," she breathed. "My ankle. It…It hurts."

"When I place you on your feet, I will help you balance," he promised, and she nodded. He put her down, and as she only stood on her right foot, he supported her on her left side. He wrapped his arms around her and began unlacing her bodice making her eyes meet his in fright.

"Erik, what---?"

"We must get this dress off of you," he said flatly. "You will catch your death of cold if you keep this wet gown on."

"Your blankets, Señor," Diego said as he entered and placed the blankets on the bed. "I shall build the fire now."

"Good," Erik nodded then turned back to his task of unlacing Beatrice's dress.

"Erik---" she tried.

"He will not look," he whispered in her ear. "He is in love with Isabella, remember?"

"Yes, but---" He silenced her with a gentle kiss to her lips. Their eyes met and she searched his for some hidden motive.

"Let me get this dress off of you so that you can get warm, please?" he smirked. He resumed unlacing her dress and finished within the next few seconds.

"I will be in the hall if you need anything more, Señor," Diego said, standing and walking to the door after the fire was built in the fireplace.

"Very good," Erik replied, not looking away from Beatrice. "Thank you, Diego." He heard the door shut and he began pulling her dress off of her. For a moment as he pulled the gown off he took a moment to look at her. Her hair was soaked through and was plastered to her neck and face and her red lip paint was smeared a bit, but he would be damned if she wasn't still beautiful.

Erik helped her sit on the bed when the dress fell to the floor and gently picked her feet up and out of it then threw it out of the way. He bundled her under the blankets that Diego had brought then began stripping off his clothes.

"W-What are you d-doing?" Beatrice asked.

"We need to raise your body temperature before you freeze," he replied. Beatrice looked away quickly when his hands went to his trousers, and her heart started racing when she felt the bed sink from his weight. He pulled her close and at the feeling of his somehow warmer body she turned into him, needing the warmth. He wrapped his arms around her and began unlacing her corset. She didn't say anything, knowing that all of her clothes were hindering her from getting completely warm.

Beatrice let her head lean against his shoulder as he made work of getting her undressed. Before she knew it, she was undressed and surprisingly, Erik didn't even try to take advantage of her vulnerability. She snuggled against him, trying to get warm and he simply pulled her closer. They were silent for a while before Beatrice finally asked the question that had been toying with her mind ever since the carriage ride home.

"Erik?"

"Yes?"

"Did you mean what you said in the carriage?"

Erik sighed and snuggled his cheek to her forehead.

"Yes," he breathed. "I meant it."

She looked up at him to tell whether he was telling the truth of not, and he looked at her to see what it was she was trying to see.

"Why did you go to the opera if you knew Christine was performing?"

Erik said nothing for a moment and simply stared at her before sighing and laying his head back on the pillow.

"I…I simply wanted to see her, hear her one last time," he replied brokenly. "I wanted to hear her voice without her fear for me looming over her." He felt Beatrice lay her head on his chest again and swallowed. "I did not mean to make you upset, and it was not my intention to humiliate you. I simply made a choice, and now I know it was the wrong one. I still pursued her when I am in love with you. Forgive me, mon ange."

"Why did you not simply tell me?" she wondered and he looked down at her again in surprise. "I can understand wanting to see someone one last time before you truly say good-bye." She didn't look at him, but he could tell that she was referring to the fact that she never got to say good-bye to him when they were separated.

"I did not think you would approve of me going after the masquerade ball," he replied laying his head back again.

"I would not have, but we would have gone anyway."

"Why?"

"Because I love you."

Erik's heart skipped a beat and he shot a wide eyed look of disbelief at her as she looked up at him.

"I love you, Erik," she repeated in a whisper. "I would let you see her a million times if it would make you happy, much as I wouldn't like it."

"Beatrice," he breathed. "How long?"

"Does it matter?" she retorted, shifting so that she was lying completely on top of him. "What matters is that I love you, and _you_ love me. That is all that _I_ think matters." She brushed her lips against his, coaxing him to kiss her.

"Señor?" Diego called, knocking on the door.

"Yes?" Erik nearly growled as Beatrice sighed in exasperation at their ruined moment.

"There is a woman here to see you," Diego replied. Beatrice and Erik looked at each other in confusion.

"Who is it?" Erik asked.

"Christine Daaé," Diego replied. Their confusion turned to shock. Why was she here? What did she want? How did she know where Erik was?

"Beatrice, I do not have to see her," Erik assured her. Beatrice gave a shaky sigh, closing her eyes and shaking her head.

"Yes you do," she breathed. She shifted off of him and he stared at her in disbelief.

"Beatrice---?"

"Go, Erik," she interrupted. "She is waiting for you."

"Señor?" Diego called. Erik did not reply, but still stared at Beatrice, searching for her true feelings through her eyes. She did _not_ want him to go. "Señor?"

"Tell her I will be there in a few minutes," he finally called back rising from the bed. Beatrice turned so as not to see anything she shouldn't and he pulled on a robe then walked toward the bed again.

"Are you warm enough?" he murmured, and she simply nodded, still not looking at him. "I will be back. I promise you."

"I know," she sighed, trying to hold back the tears threatening to pour from her eyes. "I love you."

"I know," he replied, placing his hand on her shoulder. He said nothing else and walked toward the door and Beatrice pulled the pillow beneath her face, sobbing at the fact that she could have very well lost him forever now. After all, it was Christine.



Erik took his time walking toward the parlor where Diego said Christine was waiting. He wasn't even sure if he wanted to see her. What did she want? He could only imagine what she would come to him for. That was the other question that taunted him. Why would she come to _him_ of all people for _anything_? Couldn't Raoul fulfill her every need? After all, she _did_ pick the fop over him, unless Raoul couldn't accomplish certain "duties." Erik had to admit that _that_ idea sounded a bit realistic.

He rounded into the parlor and stopped in the threshold as he saw Christine sitting on the sofa in front of the fireplace. She seemed to sense that he had walked into the room because she turned just as he entered.

"Erik!" she breathed. She stood and ran to him with open arms and threw them around his neck, hugging him fiercely. Erik stood there for a moment not knowing what to do. The woman he was trying to avoid was embracing him, and he wasn't sure of what to do. Wait, _why_ was she hugging him?!

Erik gripped her upper-arms gently and held her at arms length.

"Christine, why are you here?" he asked without hesitation. Her big brown eyes stared up at him in surprise at his reaction, but she managed to answer him.

"I…I needed to see you," she replied.

"Why?" Erik wondered.

"Be-Because, I…I found that I do not truly love Raoul anymore," she replied hesitantly. "I have always loved _you_ Erik, but I did not see it until I was apart from you."

Erik stared at her in complete disbelief, but she continued.

"I could not sleep without dreaming of you, and hearing your voice. You consume me, Erik, and I cannot keep you from my mind. When I saw you at the masquerade ball, I was so happy to see you. But when I saw Beatrice with you I panicked and I ran. I swear I did not know Raoul was there, nor that he would attack Beatrice or you. I did not want him to hurt you, and I am very glad that Beatrice stopped him. If she had not, I would not be able to live with myself. I love you, Erik."

Christine yanked her arms out of his grip and threw them around his neck, planting her lips to his. Erik's eyes shot wide in total disbelief. His wildest dreams were coming true…and he didn't want it! All he could think about in that moment was Beatrice and how he would much rather be warming her in bed because he knew she was still freezing. Erik pushed Christine away again and their eyes met and she gazed at him in disbelief.

"I have to ask you something, Christine," he said. "Do you truly love me?"

"Erik?! Why would you ask me that?! Of course I love you!"

"Take my mask off."

Christine stared at him in shock.

"What?"

"Take my mask off."

"Erik, why are you asking me this?"

"Why are you fighting this? You have seen my face before. Are you still afraid of me?"

"N-No."

"Then take off my mask."

Christine gazed at the porcelain thing on his face. She lifted her hand and it inched toward the mask slowly. Her fingers touched it, and her hand began trembling involuntarily. Erik closed his eyes and touched her trembling hand to lower it away from his face. Just seeing the look in her eyes was enough of an answer.

"Erik---?"

"I thought we could get passed this," he said in sorrowful tone. "I suppose not."

"But I love you, Erik!" Christine cried.

"I love someone else, Christine," Erik confessed. "I love her deeply."

Christine stared at him in disbelief but he simply stared back emotionlessly.

"Beatrice…" she breathed in realization and Erik nodded cautiously.

"I am sorry, Christine," he said sincerely. "Go back to your viscount. He is probably worrying about you." With that he turned and walked toward the door.

"Erik?" Christine called timidly, and he stopped just short of opening the door. "Tell me, does she love you in return? Does she treasure you for everything you are?"

"She does," he replied, still facing the door.

"Then she has done what I could not before it was too late," Christine replied and Erik turned to see tears streaming down her cheeks. "I hope for nothing else but your happiness with her, Angel."



Erik silently slid into the bed with Beatrice, not wanting to wake her up. She seemed to sense that he was back in the bed with her because as soon as he was settled she moved closer to him and he slid his arms around her. After Christine left he had stayed in the parlor for some time thinking everything over. The woman of his dreams had told him she loved him and he rejected her. That was something he never thought would happen, and because of Beatrice, it had and he didn't regret it one bit.

Beatrice shifted slightly and Erik soon found her glowing golden eyes staring up at him in sleepy question.

"I thought you would spend the night with Christine," she confessed in a raw voice.

"Why would you think that, mon amour?" Erik wondered, moving a damp strand of hair from her face.

"Did she not confess to you that she loves you?"

Erik stared at her in surprise at this question. Had she been eavesdropping outside the door?!

"I could not think of any other reason that she would come and ask for you," Beatrice explained as if reading his mind. "Did she confess her love for you?"

"She did," Erik replied. "I must admit, I did not think she would say such things as she did."

Beatrice swallowed and he frowned at her in confusion, feeling her stiffen.

"And now you will say good-bye to me, and run away with her?" she guessed. Erik had to admit that he wasn't too surprised at her statement. She had always thought that when it came to a choice between having Christine and having her, he would always pick Christine.

"No," he replied flatly, making her eyes shoot wide with shock.

"What?!"

"Beatrice, when I was talking to Christine, all I could think of was you. That in itself has told me that she was not the woman I was meant to be with. _You_ are the one who has been there for me and _you_ are the one who has not drawn back in fear at my face. I cannot tell you how much I have appreciated that, nor can I tell you how much I love you. Believe me, I love you, Beatrice."

Erik pressed his lips to hers softly, and pulled her closer to feel her against him fully. Beatrice stayed still, letting him kiss her and coax her to kiss him back through his soft passionate kisses. She found that she couldn't hold out any longer and melted in his arms as she slid her arms around his neck. She suddenly became very aware that neither of them was dressed, but she didn't care. She was with the man she loved, and he loved her in return. She knew tonight would be a night to remember.

Beatrice broke the kiss slowly and lulled her head back as Erik pressed several gentle kisses to her neck. She moaned in ecstasy and ran her fingers through his hair. He suddenly stopped and looked deep into her eyes as she frowned in confusion at him.

"Erik?"

"Are you aware of what is about to happen?" he wondered.

Beatrice stared at him in shock. She had to admit that she knew exactly what might happen if they kept this up, and she knew she wanted it. She wanted to share her body with him, and she knew she would not regret it.

"Yes," she smiled, brushing her lips against his.

"Are you sure this is what you want?" he breathed, succumbing to her touch.

"Yes," she replied. "I will not regret my decision, mon amour."

"I love you," he whispered, running his hand down her back.

"I love you, too," she smiled, pulling his mask off and placing it on the nightstand on her side of the bed.

Erik planted his lips to hers and pulled the blankets over their heads.

**A/N:** Well, you can all guess what happened, I don't have to spend a whole chapter spelling it out, do I?


	24. Proposals

**A/N: **A couple more chapters and Erik and Beatrice will have their happily ever after!

_**Chapter 24: Proposals**_

Beatrice snuggled closer to Erik as they lay tangled in the silk sheets of their bed. It had been an eventful night, and one that neither of them would forget. The sun shone through their balcony window, coaxing them to wake up, but neither of them wanted to leave their current position. They were too comfortable lying with each other. Beatrice lifted her head to see if Erik was awake and to her surprise, he was staring back at her with the widest smile on his lips. She couldn't help but smile back at him and leave a gentle kiss on his lips.

"Good morning," she murmured.

"Good morning," Erik replied. Beatrice smiled again and stretched against him making his smile grow even wider.

"What?" she frowned in confusion.

"Nothing," Erik replied, shaking his head slightly then stretched himself and wrapped his arms around her. "I was merely thinking about last night."

Beatrice giggled and made little circles on his chest with her fingers.

"It was an amazing night," she agreed and sighed in contentment, wrapping her arm around his waist. "I wish I could wake up like this every morning."

"We _could_, you know?" Erik replied, and Beatrice looked up at him with a frown of confusion.

"How?" she wondered and Erik shrugged.

"If you married me," he replied flatly. Beatrice stared at him in disbelief. Had he just proposed?!

"Will you marry me, Beatrice?" he murmured, smoothing his hand down her back. Oh, yes, it was definite now that he was proposing.

"_What are you waiting for?!_" Beatrice's mind screamed at her. "_Say 'yes' you silly girl!_" She couldn't even say what she wanted. She was absolutely speechless! She knew she should come out with an answer, but her throat simply closed up.

Erik felt his heart pound in his chest in panic. She hadn't said yes, but she hadn't said no. What he would have given to know what was going through her mind at that moment. He wanted her to be with him for the rest of their days, and it had appeared that _she_ had wanted it too. For God's sake, they had made love! Now she was hesitating about marrying him?! What was going on in that beautiful mind of hers?

"Beatrice?" he tried, cautiously. "Will you marry me?" He thought if he asked again she would come out of her trance and give him an actual answer instead of staring at him the way she was. She still stared at him, and he feared that she had gone into shock from his question. He went to sit up but she grasped his shoulders firmly, making him freeze. What the bloody hell was wrong with her?!

"Erik," she finally breathed and he simply stared at her for a moment.

"Mon ange?" he tried.

"Yes," she breathed. Erik blinked before registering that she had said what he had wanted to hear.

"What?" he breathed in disbelief.

"I will marry you, Erik," she explained, a small smile creeping to her face. Erik's face lit up and he pulled her into his arms and rolled her onto her back, planting his lips to hers. She giggled as he kissed her with more passion than he ever thought possible and slowly wrapped her arms around his neck. He broke the kiss and began kissing her frantically on her neck and face.

"Beatrice," he whispered between kisses. "You have no idea how happy you have made me!"

"If you keep this up, I think I might," she smiled as his lips trailed to her chest bone.

"I promise you, our wedding will be grand!" he smiled, his lips on her neck again.

"I would be happy with a small wedding, mon amour," Beatrice smiled, running her fingers through his hair.

"Very well," he whispered in her ear. "A _small_ wedding."

"In the opera house," she suggested, and he smiled on her neck.

"I love you," he murmured, making her smile.

"I know," she giggled as he nibbled at her ear lobe. "We must invite Ruban and Esperanza."

"Also Antoinette and Meg," Erik replied, knowing she would want them there as well.

"And your sister?" Beatrice wondered. Erik froze and looked up at her with wide eyes.

"You wish to invite her?" he wondered, truly taken aback.

"Erik, she is your _sister_," Beatrice reminded him. "Surely she would want to see you get married."

"Yes, but I do not think she would come anyway, mon ange."

"Why not?"

"We know nothing of each other save what we have learned from our short time together."

"_We_ knew nothing of each other either save for one day's worth."

"Yes, but that was different, we were children."

"Erik---"

"No, Beatrice. She will not wish to come."

Beatrice nodded, knowing it was better to simply agree with him than argue.

"_We shall see if she wishes to come_," Beatrice thought with a grin.



_Dear Madame Giry and Meg,_

_You will not believe what has happened! Erik has proposed to me and we are to be married in the spring! I am so excited! I hope the two of you can come! As I have no one to give me away and I need bride's maids, I thought you would be perfect Meg! You will get to meet Ruban and Esperanza who I think you will both adore!_

_I was thinking of inviting Krystal as well, but I have no way of knowing where she is or when she would dock here next. I __so__ want her to share this day with us. After all, she __is__ Erik's sister, but Erik says she would not want to come! How can he know her mind if we have not asked?! Madame, if it is at all possible, could you somehow find out when she will be arriving here in Spain? I do so wish to invite her to the wedding!_

_Yours truly,_

_Beatrice_



"We have some news," Beatrice smiled at Ruban and Esperanza as she and Erik stood in front of them and they sat on the sofa in the parlor. "As you both now know, we are not married…as of yet."

Ruban and Esperanza stared at them in disbelief, already knowing what they were going to announce through her statement.

"You are engaged?!" Esperanza smiled first, and Beatrice nodded with a wide grin. The Spanish beauty stood with a shriek of delight and threw her arms around Beatrice's neck. Ruban calmly walked toward Erik and shook his hand firmly in congratulations.

"Wait! There is more!" Beatrice laughed and Esperanza pulled away from her, her amber eyes filled with curiosity. "I wish for _you_, Esperanza to be in the wedding as my bride's maid," Beatrice smiled. Esperanza shrieked again in delight and hugged her fiercely again.

"I would also like _you_ to be my best man," Erik muttered to Ruban and the other man simply nodded.

"Oh, Beatrice, we must go shopping for the perfect dress for you!" Esperanza smiled excitedly.

"Go now, if you wish," Erik chuckled. "We will not be married until the spring."

"I think I will wait a while," Beatrice whispered to Esperanza and the other woman nodded. "_You_ may wear what you wish."

"There are no specific colors?" Esperanza wondered, and Beatrice shook her head.

"Come, Erik," Ruban chuckled. "I have a feeling that these two are going to pick out flowers and patterns. Let us away to the study and celebrate over a drink."

"That is a good idea," Erik laughed as the women glared at them as they walked away. Beatrice led Esperanza by the hand to the sofa and sat down.

"Beatrice? What is wrong?" Esperanza wondered, seeing a worried look in the red-head's eyes.

"Erik and I are having a disagreement about something," Beatrice confessed.

"Already?!" Esperanza laughed. "You are not even married yet!"

"I am aware," Beatrice smirked. "It is about his sister coming to the wedding."

"The pirate?"

Beatrice nodded.

"He says she would not want to come, but we do not know that. I try to talk to him about it, but he does not wish to speak of it."

"What will you do?"

"I have written to Madame Giry asking if she is able to find out when Krystal would be docking here. I plan to meet her and speak to her…without Erik."

"Do you think that is such a good idea?" Esperanza wondered with a worried look in her eyes. "After all, Erik has already said he does not want her there."

"He has not said that he does not want her at the wedding, he has said that she herself would not want to come." Beatrice sighed at the thought of her plan. "I do not wish to go behind Erik's back, but we cannot know if she truly cares for him as a sister _should_ care for a brother if we do not at least ask her. I must talk to her frankly."



_Dear Beatrice,_

_Thank you so much for inviting Meg and I to your wedding! We would be delighted to attend. I must confess I was surprised at his proposal, but I suppose it is because you two are spending so much time together. I have prayed since the two of you left that he would allow room in his heart for someone other than Christine, and I am so glad that he has chosen __you._

_As for Krystal, I have spoken to her recently. She had said something about "delivering" some things to Spain in a week's time. She should arrive the day after this letter reaches you. But, Beatrice, I must say that I agree with Erik. She may not want to go to your wedding. I do hope that everything turns out well, however. Perhaps __you__ will be able to soften her._

_Sincerely,_

_Antoinette_



Beatrice pulled her cloak tighter around her as she walked down the dock. The thick fog loomed over the dock from the morning awakening, but she didn't let it deter her from the task at hand. She heard shouting at one end of the dock and quickened her pace, recognizing the voice. She stopped in front of a familiar ship and strained to see through the fog, looking for the person who would take her to the ship's captain.

"Matthew!" she called when she spotted him. He was standing on the railing making sure that what was being unloaded was not damaged. He looked down in surprise and grinned when he saw her.

"Mrs. LaRouche!" he smiled, grabbing a rope and climbing down then landing in front of her. "I never thought I'd see you again!"

"Hello, Matthew," Beatrice smiled and embraced him for a moment. "Where is Krystal?"

"Captain?" Matthew frowned in puzzlement. "Why do you want to see her?"

"I must speak to her about something important," Beatrice replied. "Please, take me to her."

Matthew nodded and held his arm out to lead her up the gangplank. She slipped her arm through his and they walked onto the ship. He shot off to the captain's cabin but Beatrice stayed where she was until she was invited to go somewhere. Matthew emerged again and gestured that she was allowed in. Beatrice walked into the cabin and pushed the hood of her cloak down while Matthew shut the door as he walked out.

"Well, well," Krystal grinned as she sat behind her desk and leaned on it on her elbows. "This is a lovely surprise." The captain slung her feet onto the desk and leaned back in her chair. "How did you know I was going to be here in Spain?"

"Madame Giry," Beatrice shrugged simply.

"Of course," Krystal chuckled. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"I have come to ask you to mine and Erik's wedding," Beatrice replied flatly and without hesitation. The captain looked at the woman in front of her with a smirk of amusement.

"So, I was right, eh?" she chuckled. "Tell me, will _he_ be taking _your_ surname?"

"Do not pretend you do not care, Krystal," Beatrice said bravely. "I know that you are Erik's sister, and _he_ knows that you are as well. I thought you would want to be present at our wedding."

Krystal shot wide eyes at Beatrice filled with question and disbelief.

"Antoinette told you?" she breathed, and Beatrice nodded.

"Please, Krystal," she pleaded. "Come to our wedding. If not for _me_, then for _Erik_."

Krystal glared up at Beatrice, making her take in involuntary step back. She was as intense as Erik, but Beatrice knew how to handle that.

"He doesn't want to see me," Krystal nearly growled. "He made that perfectly clear the last time we spoke, remember?"

"Krystal, he did not know then," Beatrice insisted. "Now that he does, he thinks _you_ will not want to come to our wedding. You are assuming that the two of you do not want each other in your lives, when in truth you both need someone to call your family. He is your _brother_, and though you know almost nothing of each other, I know you love each other."

Krystal said nothing as she still leaned back in her chair and instead looked away from Beatrice. Beatrice sighed when Krystal remained silent and didn't move then approached the desk.

"If you change your mind, we will be married in two months," she said softly. "I beg you reconsider. We are not going anywhere."

Krystal glanced up at Beatrice as she turned and walked out of her cabin. The captain sighed after Beatrice shut the door, leaning her head back to stare at the ceiling. So, Antoinette had decided to reveal everything to Erik and Beatrice. She had to admit that she was a bit relieved. It meant that she didn't have to hide it from them. She never revealed anything to her crew about herself, but she didn't care if they found out in any case. It was the two Angels she had been worried about.

Captain Robyn lifted her head and scanned the cabin with her eyes, still sitting. She could almost see Erik's face as she showed up to the wedding. His eyes would be burning with rage and he would avoid her the whole time. Why go if he didn't want her there? They may have been siblings, but it was obvious he didn't like her from the start.

Then again, he _had_ saved her life when she fell over board, and the two did seem to have some kind of connection that he may not have noticed, but she knew about. Maybe he wouldn't mind too much if she showed up. Maybe it was an act. She suddenly had an urge to figure out how much older she was from him.

"_Let's see,_" she thought. "_Beatrice had said he was about thirty-two..._" She used her fingers to count her age of thirty-five from his. "_Three years_." She sighed and leaned her head back again.

"Lord," she prayed. "I know I'm probably not someone who should be talking to you, but hear me out. I have no idea what to do. If you could send me some sort of sign or something to guide me, it would be much appreciated." With one final sigh she sat up and looked over a piece of parchment sitting on her table. It was the schedule for the next few months. She scanned over it and suddenly a smile came to her face. She couldn't help but begin to chuckle then snicker then she couldn't control herself from bursting into laughter.

In two months, she was scheduled to come back to Spain.

**A/N:** I always have so much fun with Krystal! It wasn't until this chapter that I realized I had made her very much like Erik without meaning to! HA!


	25. Wedding

_**Chapter 25: Wedding**_

"Oh, you look so beautiful, Beatrice!" Meg grinned as she Beatrice and Esperanza were gathered in the parlor of the Castillo's home. "You are a vision in white!"

"Please, Meg! Stop!" Beatrice laughed slightly.

"She is right, Beatrice!" Esperanza insisted. "You look like a true angel!"

"You two look more beautiful than I could ever hope to be!" Beatrice complimented and they all giggled in excitement.

The day of the wedding had come so quickly, and before Beatrice really knew it, she was rushing to get ready. Her dress was gorgeous. It looked as though a cloud was wrapped around her. It was made of white silk and the sleeves were full and off the shoulders, and the skirt itself was full at the waist. The neckline was a modest "V" shape and was lined with white beads shaped into a vine. Her hair was pulled into a bun with a few loose curls to hold up the veil that fell midway down her back and over her face. She held a bouquet of red roses to contrast with the dress, and the roses were tied together by a black ribbon.

Meg's and Esperanza's dresses complimented each other. Meg was the maid of honor and she had decided on her own dress of sky blue silk that had elbow length sleeves and a "U" shaped neckline lined with white lace that also lined the sleeves. Esperanza wore a lavender silk dress that was designed almost exactly like Meg's. They each had a small bouquet of white roses tied with white ribbons.

"Esperanza!"

The girls gasped and turned to the door to see Ruban approaching the room, looking very handsome in his black tuxedo with a white rose in his lapel.

"Ruban!" Esperanza gasped and pulled him into the room as Meg shut the door. "You could have led Erik here!"

"And?" Ruban laughed as his wife pulled him by his arms.

"It is bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the wedding!" Meg giggled as she helped Beatrice fix her veil.

"Really?" Ruban smiled warmly at the blonde then turned to his wife.

"I seem to recall seeing _you_ the morning of our wedding," he murmured.

"Not in front of the bride and young one!" she whispered, hitting him gently.

"Esperanza!" Meg called. "It's time!"

Esperanza nodded and turned to Ruban.

"Get Diego," she said then turned to Beatrice and held her hands, looking into her eyes.

"Are you ready?"

Beatrice smiled and nodded then took one of Meg's hands and smiled at her.

"I am so happy," she smiled, tears beginning to well in her eyes.

"You _look_ happy," Meg smiled back. "Happier than I have ever seen you."

"Now," Esperanza broke in. "Let us get you married."



Erik wrung his hands as he watched from the end of the isle with the priest as Diego walked Esperanza toward him. Erik and Beatrice had decided to have the ceremony on the large balcony leading out of one of the Castillos' rooms that over-looked the ocean. This was too much stress. Everything was perfect for the wedding and now all that was left was the hardest part…getting through it. He was worried Beatrice would suddenly change her mind at the last minute, or decide to run before she even had to make her appearance.

"_What are you thinking?!_" he thought to himself. "_She loves you! She would never do that! She would not do it even if she did __not__ love you, not that I would have forced her to marry me_."

He looked up to see Meg and Ruban walk down the isle then turned his gaze to Antoinette sitting in the only row, smiling at her daughter looking so pretty and happy. She glanced at him and smiled reassuringly. She seemed to know that he was nervous and he simply smirked and nodded back, indicating he was a bit more relaxed. He felt Ruban suddenly poke him in the side and glanced at him.

"Are you alright?" Ruban whispered, and Erik simply nodded. He was going to remain mute until it was time for him to say his vows and his "I do's." He noticed Antoinette stand and shot his gaze to the other end of the isle. He felt like his legs were going to give out beneath him at the sight in front of him.

There was Beatrice, standing at the end of the isle, looking like she was on cloud nine and looking as beautiful as an angel. Erik couldn't help the smile that spread across his face as he saw her start walking. Any stress or nervousness he had felt, was gone within a matter of seconds of seeing her. She seemed to calm him, and it made him all the more glad that they were going to spend the rest of their lives together.

She stopped in front of him and smiled through her veil as they faced each other. The priest began talking but Erik didn't hear what he was saying because he was so focused on taking in how beautiful Beatrice was. He wished she would have let her hair down, he loved it down. She got the roses. Good. He had been really worried she wouldn't get them.

"Erik," Beatrice suddenly breathed and he snapped back to reality. She wasn't looking at him, she was looking down the isle. He looked in that direction and felt his heart skip a beat in panic. Who should be standing at the end of the isle but Captain Krystal Robyn.

"Is there an objection to this union?" the priest wondered, seeing Krystal and Erik's heart raced again in fear. That couldn't have been why she was here. It couldn't be.

Krystal shrugged and shook her head with a smirk.

"Can't the sister of the groom see him get married?" she replied, walking toward the place where Antoinette was sitting and sat next to her.

"Shall I continue?" the priest asked Erik and Beatrice as Erik stared at Krystal in total disbelief.

"Erik?" Beatrice called, snapping him back to reality again.

"Yes," he said, looking at her. "Yes, continue."

"Very well," the priest said. "Erik, do you promise to love, cherish, and protect Beatrice until death does part you?"

Erik turned to Beatrice and smiled at her warmly.

"I do," he smiled, taking one of her hands into his.

"Beatrice," the priest continued. "Do you promise to love, respect and obey Erik until death does part you?"

"I do," Beatrice smiled back, gripping Erik's hand slightly.

"In the name of the father and the son and the holy spirit I now pronounce you man and wife." The priest made the sign of the cross in the air. "You may kiss the bride."

Beatrice handed her bouquet off to Meg and turned back to Erik. He pulled the veil over her head and out of the way then pulled her into his arms, placing his lips rather chastely to hers. Everyone clapped and they smiled at their friends…and family.



Christine watched from the shore as Erik and Beatrice were married. She had convinced Raoul to stay for a few more months in Spain and they were to leave in a week or so, leaving her time to see Erik be wed to the woman he truly loved. A single tear ran down her cheek as she watched Erik kiss Beatrice. He seemed so happy, happier than when _she_ had kissed him. Maybe it was best that he rejected her. Maybe they weren't truly meant to be together after all.

"Good-bye," she whispered. She gasped when she saw him look in her direction, as if he had heard her from that distance. She looked away quickly and walked down the shore line without looking back. She had said good-bye, that was all she had wanted to do, and now she would try to live…without Erik.



Erik stared at the shore as he saw the figure racing across the beach. Christine. He knew it was her, and he had sensed something from her. She had said good-bye, he knew it, and now he wondered if he would ever see her again.

"Erik?" Beatrice asked timidly. He looked at her as she frowned in confusion at him. "Are you alright?"

"Of course, mon amour," he smiled reassuringly. "It is nothing."

Beatrice smiled and kissed his cheek.

They never thought they would find happiness, nor a home. But in the time they had spent together, they had seen that it was never too late to make a new start.

**A/N: **Yes, I know, the cornyness of that last line is incredible. No grief about the way the ceremony was done, please, I know I probably got a lot of stuff wrong.


	26. Epilogue

_**Epilogue**_

"No! Daddy! I do not want to go in the water!" Jacqueline laughed as Erik held her legs as she was slung over his shoulder and he walked toward the ocean.

"But, petite, the ocean is not going to hurt you," he laughed back.

"No! I do not want to!" Jacqueline cried in laughter.

"I will rescue you, sister!" Mael shouted with pride as he charged toward Erik. The little boy rammed into the man's legs and Erik went toppling to the sand as well as Jacqueline.

"Run, Jacqueline!"

The children scrambled to their feet as their father tried to stand and ran away from the water and toward Beatrice.

"Mommy! Save us!" Jacqueline cried and she and her brother ran behind Beatrice who began laughing as Erik approached her, covered in sand and his clothes a complete mess.

"Where are the children, Madame?" Erik asked in a comically menacing tone and knowing full well where they were.

"I do not know which children you are speaking of, Monsieur!" Beatrice gasped dramatically, smiling at him in amusement.

"I saw them Madame," Erik insisted. "Shall I torture you for their location?!" He pulled Beatrice into his arms and she gasped dramatically again as he pulled her close.

"If you plan on _torturing_ me, you are going about it the wrong way," she murmured to him.

"I think not," he grinned.

"Ew!" the children said together and Erik shot his glance to them making them gasp.

"Ah ha! I have found you!" he said triumphantly. The children shrieked and ran the opposite direction with Erik after them.

Beatrice giggled as she watched her husband playing with their children. The two tackled him again and he found himself being attacked in the sand by screaming, laughing children.

It had been ten years since they had come to Spain and got married. A year after their marriage, Jacqueline was born, and she and Erik could not have been happier when they had a little baby girl. She had Erik's midnight black hair and Beatrice's freckles sprinkled across her nose and jade eyes that pulled you in and you could not say no to her. Four years after Jacqueline came along Beatrice gave birth to Mael, their little boy. He had curly fire-red hair and sea-green eyes that glowed with an imagination you would never think possible.

Erik and Beatrice loved them. One was never far away from the other, and Mael always had to rescue his sister from their father because he was always kidnapping her, much like right now. Erik's face never bothered them anymore because as soon as they were old enough, Beatrice had insisted that they see what their father hid behind his mask. They hadn't even flinched from it, and often told him not wear it around them, but he still wore it in public.

"Beatrice!" Erik laughed as Jacqueline and Mael tried to tickle him to death. "Help me! I am being attacked by munchkins!"

"We are not munchkins!" Mael cried.

"You are to me!" Erik laughed. "Can you not attack your mother?"

The siblings froze, looked at each other then looked at Beatrice. She looked at them in horror and held her hands up.

"Do not even _dare_," she laughed, slightly.

The children gave mischievous grins and slowly moved away from their father.

"Jacqueline, Mael, you had better not---"

"Get her!" Mael shouted and the two pounced onto her, sending her to the ground. Jacqueline tried to tickle her stomach while Mael tried holding her down.

"Erik!" Beatrice cried in laughter. "Help!"

Erik strode over and held Beatrice down so that the children could tickle her.

"I meant help _me_!" she laughed harder.

"I am sorry, mon amour, but you did not specify!" Erik grinned. "But since you have now…" He scooped Jacqueline into his arms and she cried out in delight.

"Mael! Look out!" she cried, but Beatrice had already wrapped her arms around him and stood up as he kicked and struggled to be free.

"No fair!" he laughed. "I was looking away from you!"

"And I took advantage of your distraction," Beatrice retorted. "So there."

"What is this? Let them go before I give you what for!"

Erik and Beatrice turned to the woman behind Erik with a look of surprise and happiness.

"Auntie Krystal!" the children shouted with smiles. "Save us!"

"With pleasure, me little rascals," she bowed grandly. She strode toward Erik first and looked him in the eyes as she took Jacqueline's hands.

"Unhand the lady, ye scallywag!" she grinned and Erik rolled his eyes, letting his daughter down.

"You are teaching my daughter improper language," he smirked.

"Why does everything have to be so proper with you, eh?" Krystal wondered, as Jacqueline threw herself at Krystal.

"Now Mael!" she cried, jumping up and down. "Save Mael!"

"The lad can save himself!" Krystal insisted. "Can't ye, Mael?"

"Aye, aye, Captain!" he smiled, holding his head high. "Mommy, put me down this instant!"

Beatrice looked at him in mild surprise.

"Oh, ho, ho! Give _me_ orders, will you?" she replied then used one hand to tickle him as the other held him fast.

"Mommy! Stop!" Mael laughed.

"Alright, Madame. You leave me no choice!" Krystal said her own head held high. "Come along, first mate Jacqueline. We shall save your brother."

"Charge!" they shouted, and were about to run toward Beatrice, when Erik pulled Jacqueline into his arms again and stopped Krystal by placing his foot in front of hers, and she fell face first into the sand.

"Now, what will you do, _Capitaine_ Robyn?" Erik laughed as he slung Jacqueline over his shoulder again. She pounded his back with her tiny fists, but they had little effect on him, and he watched in amusement as his sister shot her gaze at him, sand covering her face and clothes.

"Villain!" she shouted, pointing at Erik. "I will get you for _that_ dear brother!"

"I would like to see you try," Erik retorted as he placed Jacqueline back on the ground. Krystal scrambled to her feet but Erik shot toward Beatrice and ducked behind her.

"You could not hurt your sister in law, could you?" he mocked when she stopped short of passing Beatrice.

"You are such a child, Erik," Beatrice sighed and walked away from the two, Mael still squirming in her arms. Erik stared at her in disbelief then looked back at his sister in horror as a devilish grin spread across her face.

"Now…Now, Krystal," he said, beginning to laugh out of nervousness. "Let us not show my children how to create sibling rivalries. I do not want my children fighting all of the time."

"A poor excuse when _you_ started it," Krystal retorted, closing in on him and he backed away.

"Well, _I_ am finishing it!" Beatrice shot as she placed Mael on the ground. "Stop it, both of you. You are adults, you must behave as such." Beatrice was ignored as Krystal lunged at Erik and tackled him to the ground. Jacqueline and Mael cheered in glee as they ran toward them and Beatrice sighed.

"I bet four doubloons on Erik."

They all froze and looked at who _else_ was coming their way.

"You would bet _against_ me, you little Aussie whelp?!" Krystal wondered as Matthew approached.

"He has the upper-hand," Matthew retorted.

"Matthew!" Jacqueline cried, and Beatrice rolled her eyes as the little girl ran to him, nearly tripping as she did. She had the biggest crush on this man, and it was no wonder, seeing as he turned out quite handsome since he and Erik and Beatrice had first met.

"Jacqueline, get back here!" Erik nearly growled, not wanting to be playful seeing his daughter run to Matthew like that. He scrambled to his feet and shot after her, shoving Krystal off of him and into the sand. Jacqueline was just about to wrap her arms around Matthew's legs when Erik scooped her into his arms, glaring at Matthew who took an involuntary step back.

"Daddy!" Jacqueline whined. "No fair!"

Erik looked at her as she pouted, her lower lip slightly quivering.

"You may shake his hand," Erik muttered, and set her on the ground again.

"_Kiss_ my hand," Jacqueline grinned, holding her hand up to Matthew. A growl erupted in Erik's throat when Matthew did as the little lady asked and the young man cleared his throat.

"It's time to go, Captain," Matthew said quickly, still looking at Erik with wide eyes.

"Already, eh?" Krystal sighed as she dusted herself off and approached the rest of them. "Alright then."

Mael tugged on her vest and she frowned down at him in confusion.

"What's wrong, little lad?"

"Did you bring us presents?" he asked.

"Mael!" Beatrice gasped. "Show some manners!"

"It's alright, Beatrice," Krystal smiled. She knelt down to Mael's level then beckoned Jacqueline toward her as she reached into one of the pockets of her vest. "Now, say the magic words."

"Yo ho, yo ho!" the children chanted and Krystal smiled, pulling her hand out of her pocket.

"Two small tokens of my esteem, young ones," she grinned. She placed one in Jacqueline's hands and one in Mael's hands.

"What are they?" Mael wondered.

"They're pieces of eight," Krystal explained. "You keep those safe, and don't let any pirates steal them, or it's the Locker for ye!"

The children giggled as she stood. They loved their aunt's presents and stories because she always had something interesting.

"Captain?" Matthew called. "The client won't wait."

Krystal sighed and patted the two children on the head before walking toward him.

"You cannot stay for just a few more minutes?" Beatrice wondered, leading the children to stand next to their father. Krystal shook her head sadly.

"Wish I could, lass," she replied. "Duty calls. You'll be glad to hear that Madame Giry is doing well, and she sends you her best."

"Return the favor for us the next time you see her," Beatrice requested, and Krystal nodded.

"I will," she replied. "Good-bye."

"For now," Erik finished, and Krystal nodded.

"Aye."

"Good-bye, Matthew!" Jacqueline called, beginning to cry. Matthew waved back at her but kept walking. Jacqueline turned into her mother's skirts and sobbed dramatically, and Beatrice patted her head consolingly.

"Do not cry, little one," Beatrice pleaded. "You will see him again."

"But not soon enough!" Jacqueline cried, clutching her piece of eight. Beatrice sighed in pity and picked her up in her arms. The little girl curled into her mother's embrace and Beatrice looked at Erik.

"Jacqueline?" he cooed, stepping close to Beatrice to get his daughter's attention. "The next time he visits, we will spend the whole day at the docks with him."

Jacqueline sniffled and turned her head on her mother's shoulder to look at him.

"We will _all_ go to the docks and see him and Aunt Krystal and we can go on their ship. Does that sound like fun?"

Jacqueline nodded and sniffled as she rubbed her eyes. Beatrice felt a tug on her skirt and looked down to see Mael with his arms up, asking to be carried.

"Erik---?"

"I will take Jacqueline," he said before being asked and pulled his daughter into his arms. Beatrice smiled at him and lifted Mael into her arms.

"Perhaps it is time to go home?" Beatrice suggested and Erik nodded in agreement then they began walking down the beach.

"Mommy?" Mael said snuggling close to her. "Tell us the story of the Lost Man and the Angel."

Erik smiled widely at Beatrice who couldn't help but smile at her son's request. That story was _their_ story.

"Would you not like to hear your _father_ tell it?" Beatrice wondered, knowing how much Erik loved telling it as well.

"No," Mael replied flatly. "_You_ tell it better."

Beatrice snickered and Erik scowled at her.

"Very well," Beatrice nodded as they loaded into the carriage. "Once, there was a handsome man who was very lost. One day he found an Angel whom he had met before, but could not remember, and though they did not know it, they loved each other very much…"



"Are they not adorable, Erik?" Beatrice smiled down at Mael sleeping in her arms.

"They are, mon amour," Erik smiled back at Beatrice as he snuggled Jacqueline closer to him before placing her in her bed. Beatrice laid Mael in his bed across the room from where Erik stood. The little ones had fallen asleep in the carriage, and were now probably dreaming sweet dreams of angels and fairies. Beatrice knelt down next to her son and gently stroked his hair with a loving gaze as Erik strode toward her.

"Beatrice?" Erik tried, placing a hand on her shoulder. "We should go to bed now, mon ange."

"Just a few more minutes," Beatrice whispered. "I hardly see them like this."

Erik smiled and sat next to her but she didn't look at him.

"They are so peaceful when they sleep."

"When they _sleep_," Erik scoffed, and Beatrice pouted at him.

"You are awful!" she whispered.

"You know I love our children, Beatrice," he chuckled. She shook her head with a small smile and turned back to Mael. Erik glanced at him then looked at Jacqueline from his spot on the floor.

"Our children are going to be too attractive for their own good," he sighed, looking back at his son. "I will have to teach this one to be a gentleman and fend off any suitors that come calling for the other one."

"They have names, Erik," Beatrice reminded him. "Lovely names, at that."

"Yes, I know," he replied and couldn't help staring at Beatrice as she still stared at Mael. There was suddenly a soft knock on the door and the two looked up to see Diego standing in the threshold.

"The Castillos are here, Señor," he told Erik.

"Alright," Erik replied with a nod. "Tell them we will be there in a moment."

Diego nodded and left down the hall as Erik and Beatrice looked at each other.

"We should be good hosts for our friends," Erik smirked.

"You go ahead," Beatrice replied. "I want to stay here with my children."

"Do not make me drag you down stairs," Erik replied jokingly. Beatrice sighed and stroked her sons head one last time. Erik stood and took Beatrice's hands to pull her to her feet. When she stood, he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close making her gasp softly and blush.

"Erik," she whispered. "Not in the children's room!"

"I was only going to kiss you, little one," he smirked, bringing his face close to hers. Beatrice couldn't resist her eyes from closing as his mouth brushed against hers tauntingly. Her arms wrapped around his neck as his lips pressed against hers in a soft kiss and his hands slid up her back. Erik's tongue slowly made its way into her mouth and gently stroked hers making her moan softly in approval. Beatrice slowly pulled away and sighed in contentment.

"It truly amazes me how you become more gentle with each day," she smiled placing a small, tender kiss to his lips.

"I know what pleases you now," Erik retorted.

"We should go down stairs," Beatrice whispered. "Ruban and Esperanza are probably becoming impatient."

Erik sighed and nodded then pulled her arm into his as he began walking to the door. They entered the parlor, Beatrice grinned as Esperanza turned from the fire to reveal the large swell of her stomach.

"My, Esperanza! Your baby is going to be bigger than you!" Beatrice laughed as the friends embraced.

"I know," Esperanza laughed. "Maybe I should stop eating so!"

"You must be proud," Erik asked Ruban who only nodded with a huge grin on his face.

"That grin has not left his face the whole nine months I have been pregnant!" Esperanza laughed, wrapping her arms around one of her husband's.

"Erik was the same way!" Beatrice laughed, doing the same to him. "And when I was carrying Mael, he was never seen without a smile on his face…ever!"

The four laughed as Erik shook his head in embarrassment.



Erik tore off his clothes as he waited for Beatrice to emerge from behind the dressing screen. It had been so long since they had been passionate with each other, it was simply becoming too much. Seeing Beatrice every day but being unable to touch her was beginning to drive him crazy. All he wanted was to pull her into his arms and ravage her, but every time it seemed like a good opportunity to do so, something would happen or the children would come into the room. He scrambled into the bed and waited impatiently for her.

"Erik?" Beatrice called from behind the dressing screen. "I hope you will not think this too _revealing_."

He could almost see the smirk on her face as she said that, and he felt himself react to her suggestion.

"I hope I _do_," he retorted. He heard her giggle.

"Erik, you are so wicked!"

"Mon ange, you tease me by taking so long!"

"Patience is a virtue, mon amour."

"But not one of mine!"

Beatrice sighed and Erik stiffened as he saw a bare foot step out from behind the screen. He let out a deep moan when Beatrice stepped next to the screen, leaning one arm against the edge with her other hand on her hip. She was wearing a white, shear, knee-length night gown with spaghetti straps and a shear white robe over it with long sleeves, but neither one of the articles of clothing did anything to conceal Beatrice's naked body beneath them. Her fire red curls cascaded around her shoulders with a few falling at the cleavage of her breasts.

"I take it you approve," Beatrice smirked, walking toward the bed. Erik's eyes followed her as she slid next to him into the bed. She placed her hand beneath his chin and closed his mouth which had been hanging open. Her hand slid up his cheek and pulled his mask off, revealing the deformed side of his face. He pulled the mask from her hand and turned to place it on the nightstand, not taking his eyes from the woman in the bed with him. He turned back just in time for Beatrice to throw her arms around his neck and plant her lips to his. They fell back with Beatrice on top of Erik and his arms wrapped around her as their tongues battled for control. Erik slowly broke the kiss and they both breathed heavily from their passionate lip-lock.

"I love you," he whispered, stroking her back slowly.

"I love you, too," she grinned back, her hands gliding to his chest.

Erik had been broken and lost, and when he finally reunited with Beatrice after that fateful day they had first met, he had found peace, comfort, and a place to call home wherever he would find himself. Beatrice had picked up the pieces of his heart, and mended her broken angel.

**A/N:** dabs eyes with handkerchief That was beautiful, wasn't it?! HA! I'm just kidding. Reviews? Any at all are appreciated! Thank you for reading this story! I had so much fun writing it, and I'm very happy to share it with all of you lovely people who are fans of Phantom of the Opera!


End file.
